


Exigence

by steelcrash



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Time, Implied Torture, Ironhide works fast, M/M, Other, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Slow Burn, Snarky Ratchet, Spark Bond, Spark Sex, Sparklings, Sticky Sex, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2017-12-09 08:42:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 35
Words: 43,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/772254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steelcrash/pseuds/steelcrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope arrives from an unexpected source with the loss of Optimus Prime to the Decepticons. "Transformers: Prime" universe. IronhidexRatchet, other various future pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Exigence

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The Aeon was dying. The crew was caught up in the death throes of the ship, Springer fighting for control as Hot Rod screamed orders for them to abandon their stations. Hot Rod felt Springer force them out of the merge, trying to save as many as he could; but Hot Rod's chances were non-existent if Springer perished. The young mech hefted an injured Bluestreak off his shoulder into Blaster's grasp, heading back to the control center.

Springer refused responding to his comms, and Hot Rod had to fight his way through the disintegrating ship to reach the other Autobot. Warning klaxons drowned out his voice as he yelled at Springer, every screen on the bridge showed just how close the ship was getting to its fiery fate.

Reaching the other mech, Hot Rod dragged his limp form from the command center, praying for a miracle as the decking beneath his feet buckled.

Earth, Autobot base, Nevada

Ratchet observed the wreckage that was the command hub. Both medical berths were occupied; the rest of the space in the hub was filled with spare parts, tools, medical supplies and the recharging forms of the newest Autobot arrivals. Only his fast-thinking and help from Raf saved the Autobots crewing a ship called the Aeon, a craft that burned up in the Earth's atmosphere hours before. The ground bridge was why its crew was still alive.

Ratchet checked the monitors worst of the injured, attention shifting when one the nearest mech grabbed his arm.

"Where. . .where are we?" the mech rasped.

"Among friends," Ratchet said. "You're lucky to be alive. Your brother, and your friends owe you their lives."

"Everybody made it?"

"Yes," Ratchet said, giving Hot Rod's shoulder a squeeze. "Get some rest."

The medic watched as the younger mech's optics shuttered. His vitals were acceptable, as were those of his brother, Springer. Ratchet checked the monitors one more time before setting about restoring order to the hub. The new arrivals consisted of a Pit-spawned pair of twins, a communications specialist, sniper, ego, scientist and Ironhide.

Ironhide's presence was welcome, but also troubling. Ratchet knew he wouldn't be able to keep anything from the weapons specialist, and he was dreading telling him the news about Optimus. Hopefully he could hold him off for a while. Just long enough. . .but he had more pressing issues to deal with. He'd gotten rid of Bumblebee and Arcee for the night, sending them home with the children with orders not to return until he told them they could come back. Bulkhead was out on patrol, and with his team members gone, it freed up some space for the newcomers. But only temporarily. Bluestreak and Ironhide were recharging in the hub, while the others, Perceptor, Blaster and Tracks were using the temporarily vacant quarters.

And Wheeljack. Ratchet had lost track of the former Wrecker during all the chaos. He was out on patrol with Bulkhead, or keeping an eye on Bumblebee and Arcee from afar. Either way, he'd show up sooner or later.

"Ratch. . ."

The sound of his name and the touch of Ironhide's hand on the medic's shoulder made him jump.

"What do you want?" Ratchet snapped.

"You should get some rest," Ironhide said.

"Fat chance," Ratchet said. "I've got work to finish."

"It'll wait," Ironhide said. "Besides, I have some questions I'd like answered.

"It can wait until tomorrow," Ratchet said.

"No, it can't," Ironhide said. "Where's Optimus?"

"Later," Ratchet said. "I need to check on the others."

He turned, trying to put some distance between himself and the weapons specialist, but Ironhide grabbed his wrist, refusing to let him go.

"Ratch, what happened? How long have you been here like this?" he asked.

"Long enough," Ratchet said.

"Tell me what happened," Ironhide said. "I want to know where Optimus is."

"He's gone," Ratchet said, not meeting Ironhide's optics. How could he explain? How could any of them? Optimus lost to the Decepticons, with no way of getting him back, the Matrix gone with him. Their Prime, and the most powerful artifact from their homeworld in the hands of the Decepticons.

"Gone, as in not on base, or gone, like. . ."

"Gone," Ratchet said. "'Hide, leave it at that for now, all right?"

"All right," Ironhide said. He decided to change the subject. "I bet you're wondering how we got here. . ."

"It had crossed my mind," Ratchet said.

"We had two ships-the Xantium and Aeon. We were being pursued by Decepticons, when Magnus made the decision to stand and fight, allowing us to get away. He bought us the time we needed," Ironhide said. "I don't know if he and his crew survived."

"If they're still alive, they'll find their way here, just like you did," Ratchet said.

"I hope you're right," Ironhide said, touching his helm to Ratchet's. The medic leaned into his touch, grateful to let someone else shoulder part of his burden for a few moments. Ratchet reluctantly pulled away, busing himself with cleaning up the hub.

"You've held them together?" Ironhide asked, testing the waters, curious about how much he could get out of the medic.

"If you can call it that," Ratchet said. "We're lucky Arcee didn't bring the place down on our heads wanting to go after Optimus."

"So he's alive?" Ironhide said.

Ratchet glared at the other mech, hoping he'd drop the matter.

"How's Hot Rod?" Ironhide asked, nodding in the direction of the medical berths.

"He'll live," Ratchet said.

"What about the others?"

Ratchet shrugged. "The repairs will take time," he said.

"If you can get Perceptor fixed first, he'll help you finish," Ironhide said.

"With his help, and Wheeljack's, everyone should be up and about in a few days," Ratchet said. "Ironhide, get some rest. This will probably be the only chance you'll have for some time."

Ironhide didn't say anything. He went back to the spot he'd procured, settling in to watch Ratchet work, drifting into recharge to the hum of the hub's systems.


	2. Chapter 2

Exigence

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

A crash reverberating down the corridor from the hub woke Ratchet. The whine of weapons onlining and yelling greeted him as he entered the command center.

"What is going on?" he asked.

Springer was standing, one hand bracing him against the wall, the canon on his other arm onlined, pointing at Wheeljack and Bulkhead. Hot Rod was struggling to stand, trying to reason with his twin. Bluestreak was standing in a corner, watching everything with interest while Ironhide tried to get Springer to calm down.

"Everyone stand down," Ratchet bellowed. Every optic in the hub turned on the medic. "What in the Pit is going on?"

"I didn't mean to cause a commotion," Wheeljack said.

"Yeah," Bulkhead said, looking sheepish.

Ratchet rounded on his teammates. "Bulkhead, I thought I ordered you not to come back until I said otherwise. So what are you doing here?"

"We talked it over, and thought you could use some help," Wheeljack said. "You've got lots of wounded to tend, and you know I can help with repairs, and Bulk can keep an optic on things while you're busy."

Ratchet sighed. "Fine. You can help me get everyone settled again, and we'll finish up the repairs. Bulkhead, keep an eye on the monitors for me, will you?"

"Sure, Ratchet," Bulkhead said.

"What about me?" Ironhide asked.

"Don't get in my way," Ratchet snapped.

88888

Another orbital cycle almost over, or what the local indigenous organic species called a "day." Ironhide sighed, stretching. He'd stayed out of Ratchet's way while he and Wheeljack finished up repairs on Hot Rod and Springer, then Blaster, Bluestreak and Tracks. Perceptor had kept himself busy by engaging Bulkhead in a quiet conversation about the planet's dominant species-humans. Ironhide watched it all in silence, listening, and waiting. Not once did anyone mention Optimus Prime, or the Decepticons.

And Ratchet was tense. Whether it was from the amount of work in front of him, or his own presence and proximity to the medic, Ironhide did not know. Watching Ratchet work brought back many memories, some good, many not. The white mech was undoubtedly one of the finest medics Cybertron ever produced. Hands skilled in healing, and other practices, Ironhide mused. He remembered the touch of those hands, but that was another lifetime. But he'd lived long enough in the past over the countless vorns wondering what had happened to Ratchet after they left Cybertron.

Except now Ratchet was done, and down the corridor before he could talk to the other mech. Ironhide stood, following him down the hallway. He found the him around the corner, tinkering with the lock on a door. A door he knew was not to Ratchet's quarters.

"I'm curious as to why our Prime's quarters are sealed," Ironhide said, coming to a halt a few feet away from the medic, arms crossed, not quite invading his space.

Ratchet backed up, refusing to let himself be intimidated by the bigger mech.

"You should be keeping an optic on the younglings," the medic said.

"Those 'younglings' can look out for themselves," Ironhide said. "Besides, everyone but us is in recharge. Ratchet, answer my question. Why do you keep skirting the issue? Afraid I won't like what I hear?"

Ratchet sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Yes," he said.

"If only you'd tell me what's happened," Ironhide said, placing his hands on the medic's shoulders.

"Trying to worm your way back into my affections?" Ratchet asked, changing the subject.

"Possibly," Ironhide said. "If I remember correctly, you made the decision to walk away, not I."

"That's all in the past," Ratchet said.

"For you," Ironhide said, kissing Ratchet in the center of his chevron.

Before the medic could respond, he heard voices and footsteps coming down the corridor.

"I told you he was down here," Miko said.

Ratchet and Ironhide looked down the hall, where the girl, accompanied by Arcee and Bulkhead, was pointing at them. The medic pulled away from the bigger mech. "We'll finish this later," he said.

Ironhide was interested to hear what Ratched had to say to the other Autobots, but he was more curious about the tiny organic creature dwarfed by Bulkhead.

"Arcee, can't you follow orders?" Ratchet said, walking past the trio into the hub.

"I thought you wouldn't mind if I came back, since you let Bulkhead return," Arcee said. "I figured you could use some help keeping everything in line."

"Everything is fine," Ratchet snapped. "Don't you have something more important to do besides bugging me? Help Jack with his homework? Oh, I know-why don't you go on patrol with Bulkhead? And take Miko with you. It's too late for her to be out."

"I want to stay," Miko said. "It's a Friday night, so no school tomorrow."

"You're going, and that's final," Ratchet said.

Femme, mech and teenager stared at the medic.

"Miko, go before I change my mind and have you looking for scraplets in the sewer pipes," Ratchet said. "You're the only one that will fit in the pipes."

Bulkhead scooped up his charge.

"I'll take her home," he said.

"You do that," Ratchet said.

Arcee regarded the medic, hands on hips. "Don't you think you were a little hard on Miko?"

He snorted. "I could have actually made her go crawling through the pipes, but I didn't," he said. "You have no idea how busy I've been for the past two days."

"I would know if you'd let us stay," Arcee said.

"I think you should go," Ratchet said. "Who's keeping an eye on Jack?"

"Bumblebee," Arcee said. "Raf is staying at Jack's tonight. Actually, they're camping in Jack's backyard."

Ratchet's scowl diminished. "At least the children aren't completely untended," he said. "But that still doesn't change the fact you disobeyed an order."

"Calm down," Arcee said. "I'll go. Comm me if you need anything."

"I will," Ratchet said.

88888

0800\. He was late for duty. Then Ratchet remembered it was a Saturday, and he allowed himself an extra hour of recharge once a week. Well, when circumstances allowed. However, at present, there was no excusing the fact he'd overslept when he had patients to tend. He went to get up from the berth, but he couldn't move. Highly unusual. When he retired late the night before, he'd gone to his quarters alone. Yet there was no denying the presence of another frame in the berth with him. A large black frame. Ironhide had his arms wrapped around the medic, one leg thrown over the other mech's flank. He elbowed Ironhide in the mid-section, earning a grunt from his berth mate.

"What?" Ironhide managed.

"I need to get up," Ratchet said. "And you have five seconds to formulate an acceptable answer as to what you're doing here in my berth."

"I needed a place to recharge that wasn't the floor, and I didn't think you'd mind," Ironhide said.

"You can recharge here while I'm on duty," Ratchet said. "Then when it's time for my recharge cycle, you can make yourself useful with monitor duty."

"Monitoring what?" Ironhide said.

"Let me up," Ratchet said.

Ironhide obliged. "We need to talk," he said.

Ratchet said nothing, but the tension in his frame and the spike in his energy field let Ironhide know the medic was dreading that conversation.

"Later," Ratchet said, exiting his quarters. Later. Much, much later. He'd put it off as long as he could, he thought as he entered the hub, quickly checking the vitals on his patients, half-listening to the conversation Miko was having with Wheeljack and Bulkhead. The fact Miko was back was overshadowed by the words coming out of her mouth.

"Ironhide kissed Ratchet," Miko said. "It was just on the forehead, but there was kissing."

Before Bulkhead could interject, Wheeljack started talking.

"They had a thing back on Cybertron," he said.

"A thing? Like feelings? Dating? Ratchet dated Ironhide?"

"Something like that," Wheeljack said, expecting a response from Miko, but there was none. Instead, the girl was staring past Wheeljack. Ratchet. Slag.

"Miko, you and I are going to have a long talk later about respecting the privacy of others," Ratchet said. "And as for you, Wheeljack, we're going to discuss what we can and can't tell the humans."

"So what is it you're not telling us?" Miko asked.

"I'd like to know the answer to that question myself, youngling," Ironhide said, amusement in his optics. "Like what's a human doing here? I thought they didn't know about us."

Ratchet's grip tightened on the wrench in his hand. Oh, how he wanted to throw it, but he wouldn't be setting a very good example in front of Miko.

"A select few know of our presence here on Earth," Ratchet said. "Ironhide, this is Miko. Miko, Ironhide."

"Pleased to meet you, officially," Miko said, whipping out her phone, snapping a picture of Ironhide.

Ratchet turned back to his work, smiling to himself. He hoped Ironhide survived having the human girl unleashed upon him.


	3. Chapter 3

Exigence

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet kept busy most of the day, finishing repairs, returning the hub back to its pre-Ironhide condition. Now he was listening to Bulkhead and Wheeljack discuss possible alt-modes with Blaster, Tracks and Bluestreak. Perceptor had already decided to keep his Cybertronian mode. He wasn't planning on leaving the base anytime soon. Ratchet doubted the scientist would get his wish if Ironhide had his way. Not a pleasant thought, the medic considered. Technically, he was in charge. Well, he and Arcee had an understanding. Ironhide probably wouldn't let that slide once he found out what happened to Optimus and how long he'd been gone. But that was a concern for later. Much more alarming at the moment was Miko's questioning of Hot Rod and Springer.

"Twins? How can you be twins?" Miko asked.

Hot Rod grinned, kneeling down on one knee. "We are," he said. "Ratchet can explain."

He ignored the scathing glance the medic threw his way.

"Miko, what did I tell you earlier about asking too many questions?" Ratchet said.

"Curiosity killed the cat," Miko muttered.

"Actually, if one takes into consideration Schrodinger's equation, the cat is neither alive nor dead," Perceptor said.

"Percy, shut up," Ratchet said. "Hot Rod, why don't you and Springer join the others in trying to find alt-modes? You're both well enough for a short patrol tomorrow."

Hot Rod complied, dragging Springer with him.

"Are they really well enough for duty?" Ironhide asked.

"Light duty," Ratchet said. "It won't hurt for them to accompany Arcee and Wheeljack on a short jaunt into town tomorrow to familiarize themselves with it and the area surrounding base. And it will get them off my hands for a few hours. You could go with them."

"I'll stick around," Ironhide said. "You and I still need to have that talk. I'm trying to be patient."

"Never one of your virtues," Ratchet said.

"One you've always had in spades, despite your demeanor," Ironhide countered.

Ratchet ignored the comment.

"Ironhide, Perceptor and I need to re-calibrate some sensors, if you don't mind," the medic said.

"Which sensors?" Ironhide said. "If it's something basic, I can help."

"We're trying to locate a cloaked ship," Ratchet said.

"Cybertronian?"

"No, Reticulan," Ratchet snapped. "Of course, Cybertronian."

"Autobot or Decepticon?"

"Ironhide, get your aft out of my way before I 'bridge you to someplace very unpleasant," Ratchet said.

"You have a working space bridge?" Ironhide said, surprised.

"Ground only," Ratchet said.

"Then how did you get us here?"

"Fast thinking and redirection," Ratchet said. "Now redirect yourself away from me."

88888

Ironhide contented himself with listening to his team try to find suitable alt-modes. Occasionally, he would glance Ratchet's way, watching the medic and Perceptor working together. He had only the faintest grasp on their scientific techno-babble, but he enjoyed seeing Ratchet in his element. However, the other mech seemed oblivious to his interest, so Ironhide gave his attention over to finding his own Earth mode, and fending off questions from the human youngling.

"So you used to date Ironhide?" Miko asked, sidling over to the big, black mech.

"If by 'date' you mean courting, then the answer is yes," Ironhide said, once again shooting a look Rachet's way.

"And you're both boys," Miko said.

"Is that a problem?" Ironhide asked.

"No," Miko answered. "Some people here on Earth are stupid about things like that, though."

"More's the pity," Ironhide said. "Don't you have someone else you can pester?"

"Not really," Miko said. "I don't think Ratchet wants to be bothered, Bulk is supposed to start orienting the others to life here and Jack is getting ready to go on patrol, so that leaves me with you."

"Why don't you talk to Hot Rod and Springer?" Ironhide said.

"I'm forbidden to ask them any questions until Monday," Miko said. "I don't want to tick off Ratchet."

"Smart femmeling," Ironhide said. "Although I think it's a bit late to worry about angering Ratchet. He seems as if he's under a lot of stress."

"You guys showing up like you did really rattled Ratch," Miko said. "We thought it was more 'Cons, but I'm glad it wasn't."

Ironhide's optics narrowed. "Have the Decepticons been much of a problem?"

"Depends," Miko said, suddenly looking at her feet. "Hey-tell me what life was like on Cybertron. Nobody ever talks about it."

Forced enthusiasm. Lovely. A human youngling wouldn't even discuss the Decepticons, even though she knew about them. But Ironhide was going to force Ratchet to talk, even if it killed him.

"Miko, has Ratchet forbidden you to answer any questions I might ask?" Ironhide said.

Silence.

"Miko. . ."

"Only the ones about the Decepticons and Optimus," Miko said.

That was an interesting development, Ironhide reflected. He considered the possibilities. Was Optimus a prisoner of the Decepticons? Had he left the Autobots of his own accord? But that was ridiculous. Optimus was Prime. He would not abandon his friends, or his cause so easily.

"Miko, I will tell you anything you like about Cyberton if you let me know what's going on around here," Ironhide said, hoping to bribe the youngling.

"I won't break my promise to Ratchet," Miko said. "If you want to know, ask him. He should've told you already."

His opinion of the youngling went up several notches.

"I'll ask him, Miko," Ironhide said. "But first, we'll let Hatchet work, and I'll answer your questions about Cybertron.

88888

Late. Past 0100. Ironhide was doing laps around the base, familiarizing himself with its corridors, but not out of any sense of duty. Instead, insomnia had him walking around, avoiding the hub, and Ratchet. Except the medic was coming down the corridor, no doubt heading for his quarters.

"You should've called it a day hours ago," Ironhide said as the other mech approached.

"I don't have that luxury," Ratchet said. Not when there was so much at stake, and he finally had help.

"Make any progress with the computers?" Ironhide said.

"Some," Ratchet said. "Our efforts would progress further if we were dealing with Cybertronian technology, and not human."

"From what I've been able to gather, you're outmanned and outgunned," Ironhide said. "You've been lucky."

Ratchet could admit Ironhide had him there. "You have no idea," he said.

"Then tell me, Ratch," Ironhide said, placing his hands on the medic's shoulders.

"Tomorrow, I promise," Ratchet said.

"All right," Ironhide said.

88888

Arcee didn't mind Ironhide tagging along with her and Jack while they showed Springer and Hot Rod around Jasper. His presence was reassuring. He was one of their Prime's oldest friends, and one of the most experienced and best fighters in the Autobot ranks. And of course, their "routine" patrol became anything but when they received Ratchet's call the Decepticons were attacking a nearby experimental drilling station.

They redirected to the sight, finding Breakdown, Knock Out and several Vehicons raiding the new energon source. Easy enough. . .or so they thought. Optimus Prime. Firing at them. Branded with a Decepticon symbol. Not recognizing any of them. Then confusion and chaos as the drilling station was ignited in the fight, the Decepticons and Optimus 'bridging away.

The femme helping Springer drag Wheeljack to safety, Hot Rod scream in frustration as he was pulled back into the ground bridge by Ironhide. Too many Decepticons, but the overwhelming urge to go after their Prime was too much, but there was nothing any of them could do as they were transported back to base.

Ratchet was ready and waiting when they appeared, Perceptor stepping up to help as Springer and Arcee placed Wheeljack on a medical berth. Ironhide didn't let go of Hot Rod; he only stood, watching Ratchet.

"If you're not hurt, get out of the way," Ratchet said.

Ironhide stepped back, anger radiating off his frame. Ratchet stopped, looking back over his shoulder, feeling the flare in his former lover's energy field.

:You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do: Ironhide commed.

88888

The day was nearly over. Ratchet and Perceptor finished Wheeljack's repairs, sending the Wrecker off with Bulkhead. Arcee had retired to her own quarters, refusing to talk to Ironhide, who was left to seethe, unable to offer an explanation for the day's events to his own team. And Ratchet almost managed to avoid him. Almost. He accosted the medic outside his quarters, backing him into a corner.

Ironhide slammed a fist into the wall by Ratchet's head.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," Ratchet said.

"When? He's become one of them?"Ironhide snarled.

"He doesn't remember who he is," Ratchet said.

"How long?"

"Almost two months," Ratchet said.

"Start from the beginning," Ironhide said. "Do not leave anything out."

It all came tumbling out-the confrontation with Megatron at the space bridge and his absence, and everything leading up to Unicron and Optimus' purging of the Matrix and his loss to the Decepticons.

Ironhide took it well, Ratchet thought, considering. He said nothing, but the medic could feel the barely contained rage and frustration radiating from the other mech.

"Get some recharge," Ironhide said. "We'll discuss this in the morning. What we're going to do."

Ratchet nodded, watching Ironhide walk away. Shaking, the medic slumped against the wall, dreading the coming day.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Monday morning. 0805. Ratchet didn't want to leave his quarters. His comm pinged half a dozen times before he rolled off his berth, opening the door.

Bulkhead waited outside. "Ironhide wanted me to see what was taking you so long," he said.

"Ironhide can get slagged," Ratchet muttered, following Bulkhead out and into the hub. All of them-his own team, and Ironhide's, were waiting.

Ironhide's optics narrowed when he saw Ratchet. The medic glared back, arms crossed, interested in what the weapons specialist had to say.

"We're getting him back," Ironhide said.

"How?" Ratchet asked.

"I don't know yet," Ironhide said.

"That's it then? That's all you have to say? No grand plan? Just that we're going to get Optimus back? We've tried," Ratchet said.

"Not hard enough," Ironhide snapped.

"You have no idea what these past months have been like," Ratchet said.

"You're a medic, not a tactician," Ironhide said. "I imagine you have tried your best to get Optimus back, but. . ."

"But what?" Ratchet asked, stepping into Ironhide's personal space, so close they were almost nose to nose.

"Nothing," Ironhide said, noting the interest on all the faces of the bots surrounding them. "Don't you all have something else to be doing? Like patrol?

Ratchet backed down, only slightly, watching the assembled Autobots go their separate ways.

"You still haven't learned to control that temper of yours, have you?" Ironhide asked once they were alone.

"I can control my temper just fine," Ratchet said. "It's just that you've always had the annoying ability to get under my armor."

"Your choice," Ironhide said, gratified he could still have that affect on the medic.

"You shouldn't keep baiting me," Ratchet said. "Not when there is so much work to do. Do you have any ideas on how we can get Optimus back?"

"What have you tried?" Ironhide asked.

"My hope was to find the Nemesis, ground bridge in, find Optimus and return him to base," Ratchet said.

"Not a bad idea, you can't find the ship because it's cloaked," Ironhide said.

"Obviously, because I don't think even a human would have a problem locating a two-mile long Decepticon warship," Ratchet said.

"Aren't there many of what the humans call 'UFO sightings' in this area?" Ironhide asked. "Perceptor keeps talking about them."

"There are a significant number, but I've considered them irrelevant to our search," Ratchet said.

"If there's even a chance one was the Nemesis. . ." Ironhide started.

"When Bumblebee arrives with Rafael this afternoon, he can fill you in on the number of sightings," Ratchet said. "I'm sure he'll assist you with amassing and interpreting the data."

"Who is Rafael?" Ironhide said.

"Bumblebee's human charge," Ratchet said, going back to work.

"Another? How many are there?"

"Miko, Rafael, and Jack. Arcee is his guardian," Ratchet said. "And Agent Fowler, our liaison with the American government."

"Hold on-government liaison? Does Optimus know about this?" Ironhide said.

"Optimus is the one who brokered the alliance," Ratchet said. "With any luck, you'll be meeting with Agent Fowler sometime this week."

"Are those all of the humans?" Ironhide asked.

"Jack's mother, Nurse Darby, knows about us as well," Ratchet said.

Ironhide vented air in a sigh. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Nothing I can think of," Ratchet said.

Ironhide said nothing, only looking thoughtful for a few moments. Not good, Ironhide thinking.

"We need to get someone on that ship," Ironhide said.

"We have to find it first," Ratchet retorted.

"Then you need to get to work on it, don't you?" Ironhide said, punching Ratchet in the arm before walking away.

88888

Hot Rod sat on the floor by the human boy named Raf. Ironhide had designated him as the boy's help for sifting through piles of UFO information. He had to admit the kid was good with his laptop-the human equivalent of a data pad. Raf kept up a one-sided monologue, asking questions, which Hot Rod absent-mindedly answered. Hot Rod wondered why Bumblebee wasn't helping the kid, as he was his his guardian, but the scout was out on patrol instead. And Springer. . .he'd returned from patrol, and it was painfully obvious what he was doing, and with who. Hot Rod was busy shutting out his twin, blocking the bond between them. It was why he was wasn't dedicating all his attention to assisting Raf.

". . .and Miko said you were a twin, and I was wonder, which one of the new guys is your brother, and how does that work, a Cybertronian having a twin? I mean, how do you even have siblings?" Raf asked, looking hopeful, wanting an answer.

"Ratchet can answer the twin question," Hot Rod said, grinning, knowing full well what the medic would do when presented with that enquiry again. "But I don't think I'd try asking just yet. He's got a lot of work to do with trying to find the Decepticon ship."

"Yeah," Raf said. "So which is your brother?"

"Springer," Hot Rod.

"He's the helicopter, right?" Raf said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"Are you guys really going to get Optimus back?" Raf said, changing the subject.

"We're going to try," Hot Rod answered.

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Ratchet was annoyed. He was a medic, not a Prime damn it, and he had better things to do besides ride herd on a bunch of younglings too irresponsible to show up for duty on time. He thought about relinquishing command to Ironhide, and he could deal with the issue. He knew where Bluestreak was, and he was not accepting of certain activities going on when bots were supposed to be on duty. The gunner was supposed to be relieving Blaster, but he was nowhere to be found.

He went looking for Ironhide, who was in his quarters.

"I hope you don't advocate members of your team not showing up for duty on time," Ratchet said.

"Who is it?" Ironhide asked.

"Springer and Bluestreak are using one of the storerooms for extracurricular activities while Bluestreak is supposed to be on duty right now," Ratchet said.

"You know for certain?" Ironhide said.

"I saw them sneaking off together earlier, but didn't give it any thought at the time," Ratchet said.

"Then how do you know they were sneaking?" Ironhide said.

"The real question here is are you going to do anything about it?" Ratchet asked.

"They were carrying on like that before we got here," Ironhide said. "No point in changing things. As long as their relationship doesn't interfere with their duties."

Ratchet hmphed. "You sound like Optimus," he said.

"I think he was right about that one," Ironhide said.

"However, their relationship, or urges, or whatever you want to call it, are interfering with duty," Ratchet said.

"I'll take care of it," Ironhide said. "Since when are you such a stickler for protocol?"

"Since I realized how quickly a relationship with someone I serve with complicates matters," Ratchet said.

"Optimus had no problem with our relationship," Ironhide said. "Only you did."

"I had no problem with you, or our relationship," Ratchet said. "I only had issues with what you asked of me."

"Optimus gave his blessing," Ironhide said. "And he had no difficulties in continuing his relationship with Jazz."

"A relationship that began when he was Orion Pax, and ended not long after he became Prime," Ratchet pointed out.

"Again, he gave Jazz and Prowl his approval when they bonded," Ironhide said.

"Your argument is invalid," Ratchet said.

"How?" Ironhide said. "You ran because you were afraid."

"I left because I was needed," Ratchet said.

"You never gave me an answer," Ironhide said.

"I thought my actions were a suitable answer," Ratchet said. "I thought what we had was a suitable arrangement. Bonding is a dangerous, archaic tradition."

"An archaic tradition even our Prime approved of," Ironhide said. "He wanted a bond. He just never found anyone he wanted enough to bond with."

"Optimus always was a traditionalist," Ratchet said. "But he would not endanger himself, or our cause with such a selfish act."

"I think Optimus would think of a bond between to of his oldest friends as sign of hope for the future," Ironhide said. "The question still stands. I want to bond with you. I want a future with you, a sparkling, all of it."

"If you want a sparkling, you're going to have to wait until we locate the Allspark," Ratchet said.

"It still hasn't been found?"

"No," Ratchet said.

"One does not need the Allspark for a sparkling," Ironhide said. "Bonded pairs can spark life."

"I am not having this discussion again," Ratchet said. "A bond and a sparkling would be a liability."

"I know. But isn't it worth the risk?" Ironhide asked.

"I'm needed. I can't be so selfish, or foolish," Ratchet said. "Ironhide, I still care for you, but do not push this issue. We have to put aside our differences for those who we lead, and for Optimus' sake. I'm not asking too much, am I?"

"No," Ironhide answered.


	5. Chapter 5

Exigence

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The road Hot Rod was traveling was flat, straight and stretched for miles. Perfect for speeding, but the humans had signs posted with what they called a "speed limit." Springer flew overhead, keeping pace with his twin below. Hot Rod wanted to speed; it was more than a desire, it was a need. No one would know but Springer, and it wasn't like there was anyone who would care if he did go faster than allowed. There was no one around but Springer, and he could probably outrun anything the humans had. Of the Autobots on Earth, only Tracks, and maybe Bumblebee, with only the best of luck, could hope to keep up with him, let alone catch or surpass him. So the young Autobot dropped the hammer, reveling in the feel of the wind singing over his frame, and the hum of the pavement beneath his tires, the song of speed.

:We're supposed to be patrolling, not joy-riding: Springer commed.

:There's nothing for miles, and you and I aren't likely to find the Nemesis: Hot Rod commed back.

Springer didn't have an answer, so Hot Rod went faster. Several miles down the road, he passed a human highway patrolman, and didn't slow when the human tried to catch him. Later, he only slowed when the terrain changed, and Springer used it as an opportunity to catch up with him, hovering a few feet above road surface.

"What gives?" Hot Rod said, stopping and transforming.

"We're definitely gonna be in trouble now," Springer said. "I don't want Ironhide and Hatchet on our case."

"Too late for that," Hot Rod snapped. "With you and Bluestreak sneaking around. How many times in the past week have the two of you been late for patrol? Want me to remind you?"

"No," Springer said.

"Fine," Hot Rod said. "Race you back?"

"I'll never catch you," Springer said.

"I know," Hot Rod said.

"We're not due back for another hour, anyway," Springer said. "Isn't that other human, Fowler, supposed to arrive today?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "And we have to be there for it. Ironhide wants everybody there."

"Great," Springer said. "Maybe we should have stayed on Velocitron instead of coming here."

Hot Rod frowned. Velocitron was the last Cybertronian colony they'd encountered before arriving at Earth. It had been a welcome change from ship life, and he'd made a killing at the races. He'd met a mech there that almost convinced him to stay. Almost. But a corrupt government and dying sun weren't a good combination for long-term survival, so Hot Rod had decided to continue on with the search for the Allspark and Optimus Prime with his fellow Autobots. Instead, Blurr, had come along with them, earning himself a place on Ultra Magnus' ship, the Xantium.

"We didn't have a future on Velocitron," Hot Rod said.

"No, instead you had to convince Blurr to come with us," Springer said. "And now he's probably dead, along with Ultra Magnus, Kup and the others."

"Maybe they're not dead," Hot Rod said.

"Yeah, and we're not stuck on this dirt ball for good," Springer said.

"It's better than nothing," Hot Rod said. "We're alive, among friends, and better off than most of our race."

Springer snorted. His brother, ever the optimist.

"How can you be OK with this?" Springer asked.

"Because I have hope, Spring," Hot Rod said. "There is still a Prime, and maybe he isn't the only one. . ."

"You spent way too much time listening to Kup and those damn stories about Alpha Trion and the legacy of the Primes," Springer said. "Those are just stories, Rodi, tales for sparklings. And if you haven't noticed, the Prime was wearing a Decepticon brand."

"Ironhide's got a plan to get him back," Hot Rod said.

"I can hardly wait to hear the details," Springer said. "C'mon. Let's get back. I hope the fireworks start early."

Seconds later, Hot Rod commed Blaster, who 'bridged them back to base, and into the middle of an argument.

"I don't care how sophisticated the program is, it can't possibly do what you expect it to do," Perceptor said, voice raised. "It's human technology."

"You think you can do better?"

Hot Rod noticed a new human. Dark skin, in a suit, standing on the scaffolding in front of the main screen, almost nose to nose with Perceptor. He guessed it was Agent Fowler, human liaison to the Autobots.

"It will do what it's supposed to do, when your sensors are upgraded with what I brought along," Fowler said. "Besides, did I tell you how crazy I think your plan is? But it just might work."

"We cannot base a tactical exercise on data supplied by such primitive technology," Perceptor said.

"Perceptor, calm down," Ratchet said. "That is an order. This is the the best, most advanced technology the humans have to offer, and they are giving it to us. If Wheeljack is correct, with a little work, we can use it to detect the Decepticon ground bridge. And when we do, we can use it to get a strike team onto the Nemesis, and return Optimus."

Perceptor sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat. "With your permission, we'll start the installation immediately," he said.

Ratchet nodded. "Agent Fowler, thank you," he said.

"Yeah, whatever," Fowler muttered. "What time is this meeting supposed to start?"

"In fifteen minutes," Ratchet said.

"How about now?" Fowler asked, noticing two new Autobots towering overhead. "And you are?"

"Hot Rod, and this is my brother, Springer," Hot Rod said.

"Brothers? How is that possible?" Fowler asked, looking at Ractchet.

"They're split-spark twins," Ratchet said. Fowler knew something of the Allspark, and its place in their society, and the medic just let the human assume all Autobots were sparked by it, and placed in protoforms. It was an explanation that still let Fowler sleep at night. But it was beside the point.

"One spark split between two bodies?" Fowler said.

"Correct," Ratchet said, noticing how thoughtful the human was now looking.

"I'm guessing that's a rarity," Fowler said. "Right?"

"Split-spark twins are a very rare and special thing," Ratchet said.

"Special how?"

"Because of their origin, and the ability it gives them" Ratchet said. "Split-spark twins have the ability to communicate with one another over great distances, and can sense one another because of their twin bond."

"A telepathic link, in other words," Fowler said. Interesting, but nothing useful in getting Optimus Prime back. Or could it be? He'd have to think about it.

Minutes later, the Autobots were assembled, and it didn't take very long for the gathering to become an argument (again) about the efficacy of human technology and its applications to military operations. Bulkhead pulled Arcee and Bumblebee back from the hub, while Tracks and Blaster started taking bets on how long before blows were exchanged, or Perceptor squished the human. Springer and Bluestreak left together, leaving Hot Rod and Ratchet to watch while Wheeljack tried keeping Perceptor and Ironhide away from Fowler.

"We'll need to test the program and equipment before using it," Perceptor said. "I cannot condone applying it in a life or death situation."

"How do you think you got here?" Ironhide said. "Ratchet and Rafael took a gamble, using a ground bridge to lock on to the Aeon, and bringing us here."

"We can't just install this program. . ."

"Perceptor, ENOUGH," Ratchet bellowed. "We've been over this. It's our best chance to detect and hijack the Decepticon bridge. It's our shot at retrieving Optimus."

"Fine," Perceptor said, stalking from the hub.

"That went well," Fowler said. "Look, keep me apprised of what's going on. I wish you the best of luck.  



	6. Chapter 6

Exigence

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

And now comes with warning: This chapter is where the rating goes up. Mech on mech, sticky. You have been warned.

Their chance came two days later. Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor toiled ceaselessly to get the new sensors and program online, and it worked. Ironhide and Ratchet lead two teams through the bridge, straight onto the Nemesis; only Blaster and Perceptor stayed behind.

"Split up," Ironhide said, shooting Ratchet a look. "Be careful."

"I can only try," Ratchet said, taking off down the opposite corridor with Bulkhead, Bumblebee, Wheeljack, Arcee, and Hot Rod. Ironhide had split the twins, knowing if communications were jammed, the strike teams could still keep in contact. He hoped his plan worked, although it really wasn't much of a plan-create enough of a commotion, and maybe Optimus would come to them.

He lead his own team-Springer, Bluestreak and Tracks down another corridor. The Nemesis was huge, and they had much ground to cover. And now they were on Megatron's warship, reality set in as the fight began. Two Vehicons. Easy enough, and Springer and Bluestreak picked them off, but Ironhide knew it would only get harder. And he was right.

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Ratchet knew something of the Nemesis' layout, having been on the ship before. There was no way of knowing where they were, but he had Hot Rod relaying information back to Ironhide. And Wheeljack had a moment of brilliance-hacking the ship's mainframe, activating the ship's bridge, and transporting them to the command center. Hot Rod passed along the coordinates to Springer, and they hoped for the best.

Wheeljack's spontaneity and success impressed Ratchet, but the Decepticon surrounding them did not. The look on Megatron's face amused the medic-the mixture of disbelief and outrage the Decepticon warlord wore would've made Ratchet laugh on another occasion. And Ratchet barely evaded the blast Megatron fired in his direction. He fired back, hitting Knockout, taking him down.

And Optimus. . .oh Primus, the rage in his leader's optics as he joined the fray. . .Ratchet would be haunted by that look for some time. But he pushed it from his mind as he covered Arcee, who was trying to help a fallen Bumblebee. "We've got to get out of here," the femme said.

"Not until we get Optimus," Ratchet said, firing at an approaching Airachnid. He missed, and the Decepticon leaped, pinning him to the ground. Before she could attack again, the femme was tossed across the command center by Ironhide.

"Thanks," Ratchet said as Ironhide helped him back to his feet.

"Don't thank me yet," he said. "We have to finish this. Now. Even if it means hurting Optimus."

Ratchet nodded, onlining his weapons, nodding at Ironhide. In unison, they ran, attacking Optimus, only to get thrown back by an explosion.

"What in the Pit was that?" Ironhide asked.

"I have no idea," Ratchet said.

:You might want to, ah, vacate the area: Wheeljack commed.

:Why?:

:I planted a few surprises. Maybe one of them will hit Optimus:

:You planted bombs?: Ratchet asked.

:Not really. Just dropped a few grenade prototypes I had in my subspace, but the timers don't work like they're supposed to, so we really should fall back: Wheeljack suggested. :A couple of the magnetic ones attached to Megatron when I threw them, so you do not to be close when they go:

Ratchet started to retort, but one of the grenades exploded. Then another, plunging the command center into further chaos. The lights went out, and things were catching on fire.

Across the room, Hot Rod was fighting his way toward his Prime. He didn't want to have to hurt the Autobot leader, but he figured he didn't have a choice. Except he didn't get a chance when he was finally close. Optimus punched him with his left fist, and stabbed with the blade on his other arm. Hot Rod fell; Springer screamed as he felt the searing pain of his brother's wound as if it was his own. He started to run toward his twin, but the ground bridge opened in front of him.

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Springer wouldn't talk to any of them. He wouldn't let anyone but Bluestreak touch him.

"I'll take care of him," Bluestreak said, waving off Ratchet. "He's not hurt anywhere I can see, but I'll talk to him. Maybe I can get him to let you look at him later."

Ratchet sighed, rubbing his temples. Springer couldn't feel Hot Rod through their bond, but the medic doubted Hot Rod was dead. If he was, Springer would be gone, too. There was no use in telling the angry, upset mech that though.

He took a long look around the hub. It was mess again, and deathly quiet. Ratchet looked over to at the main screen, where Tracks had actually shut his arrogant mouth, volunteering to take over for an exhausted Blaster. Feeling the medic's gaze on him, he turned, facing the other mech.

"Comm me if you need me," Ratchet said.

Tracks nodded, turing back to his work. Sighing, Ratchet headed toward his quarters. He entered, not surprised to see Ironhide sitting on his berth. Ratchet sat down beside him.

"You could have been killed," Ironhide said.

"I'm still here," Ratchet said.

"When I see Airachnid again, I will rip her head from her body," Ironhide said.

"You might have to fight Arcee for that dubious honor," Ratchet said.

"You'd think she'd be glad for the help," Ironhide said.

"Possibly," Ratchet said.

"How is Bumblebee?" Ironhide asked.

"Resting in his quarters," Ratchet said. "I'll finish up his repairs in the morning. He was so shaken. . .I should go check on him soon. Blaster is with him, keeping an eye on him, and playing all his favorite music from Cybertron."

"Bumblebee is in good hands," Ironhide said.

Ratchet didn't answer. He was too tired. They'd failed.

"Ratch, what's wrong?" Ironhide asked.

"Nothing," Ratchet said.

"My aft," Ironhide said, pulling the medic close.

Ratchet didn't move away, and Ironhide wrapped his arms around the medic.

"Fragger," he said, kissing the other mech. When he didn't push him away, Ironhide took it as an invitation, gently shoving Ratchet back onto the berth. He covered the medic with his own frame, energy field flaring with desire. He kissed Ratchet again, and the medic's hands roamed over his body, finding seams in his armor, tweaking wires, making him moan. But he gave as well as he received, nipping at the wires in Ratchet's neck, and rubbing the plating over the other mech's interface array. It clicked open, and Ironhide wasted no time, spreading Ratchet's legs with his hands, leaning down, thrusting his glossa into the medic's valve. Ratchet arched against him, and Ironhide continued to lave the valve until the medic overloaded.

The black mech sat up, watching Ratchet's face. The medic's optics were offlined, face slack with pleasure.

"How long has it been?" Ironhide asked.

Ratchet opened one optic, the another.

"Since I've overloaded, or interface?" he said.

"Either," Ironhide asked.

"I haven't interfaced since before leaving Cybertron," Ratchet said. "And not that long since I last overloaded. A mech can take care of one's own needs."

"More fun with a partner," Ironhide said, his own plating opening, spike pressurizing.

"Indeed," Ratchet said, as Ironhide knelt between his thighs, and leaned down for a kiss. Then Ironhide was inside him, thrusting, and there was no need for words. And it didn't take long before Ratchet overloaded again, Ironhide not long after, calling the medic's name. He nuzzled Ratchet's neck, kissed his nose, rolling to the side, so he wasn't crushing the other mech with his weight, but he didn't pull out of him. Ironhide's free hand went to caress the armor over Ratchet's spark, teasing the seam there.

"Please," Ironhide said, meeting Ratchet's optics.

"We shouldn't," Ratchet said.

"We've never," Ironhide said.

"I could end up sparked," Ratchet said.

"I don't care," Ironhide said, once again kissing Ratchet. He rolled Ratchet onto his back again. "Indulge me. Just this once. Please."

Ratched closed his optics. It was as close to begging as Ironhide would ever come. They'd nearly died this day. He sighed, parting his armor, looking up at Ironhide. One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile, and he kissed Ratchet, parting his own armor, and the walls between them came down. Ratchet saw how much Ironhide had feared for him during the battle, and how he'd missed him. Ironhide learned how lonely Ratchet had been without him. And then they were one as the merge completed, and the backlash of overload knocked them both offline.


	7. Chapter 7

Exigence

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide pressed a kiss to Ratchet's helm, murmuring in Cybertronian as the medic stirred. He watched a moment, making sure Ratchet was in recharge. Already exhausted from the day before, Ironhide had further worn out the medic. He exited Ratchet's quarters heading toward the hub to check on Springer. He found him curled on his side on one of the medical berths, Bluestreak sitting beside him, one arm thrown across the triple changer.

"How is he?" Ironhide asked.

"I don't know," Bluestreak said. "He won't talk to me."

"Still?" Ironhide asked.

"Yeah," Bluestreak answered. "He's never been like this before."

Circumstances had never before separated the twins so violently, either, Ironhide thought. Springer and Hot Rod survived bad scrapes before, but this was different. They didn't know the severity of Hot Rod's wounds, and if Springer couldn't communicate with him, it was probably bad. But the weapons specialist didn't voice his opinion, not with Bluestreak looking at him, in need of reassurance. The sniper wasn't a sparkling, and sugarcoating matters wasn't something Ironhide was going to do.

"We'll work through this, Blue, whatever happens. Get some rest," Ironhide said.

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0730\. Damn early to be up, considering the events of the day before, but Tracks was awake, and listening to Ironhide and Ratchet bicker. Tracks' money was on Ironhide. Ratchet would never win.

"Someone needs to keep an eye on the children," Ratchet said. "Bulkhead has responsibilities that go beyond looking for Decepticons."

"After yesterday, I'd think you'd want everyone out looking for those Decepticons with even more diligence than before," Ironhide said.

Ratchet glared. "Fine. You win."

Tracks put himself between Ratchet and Ironhide.

"Doc, I'll take the kids to school, and pick them up and bring them here after," Tracks said, watching the two mechs' optics meet.

"That's nice of you," Ratchet said.

"I'm not on the roster for monitor duty today since I did it last night, and I don't patrol until tomorrow, so I'll consider this my assignment," Tracks said.

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The blue sports car parked by the curb outside Miko's house was a familiar shade of blue. It was sitting where Bulkhead would normally be waiting to take her to school. She stood by the car, thinking. Then she noticed the Autobot symbol on the front of car where the running horse logo belonged.

"Tracks, what are you doing here?" Miko asked.

"Giving you a ride to school," Tracks said. "Get in before I change my mind."

She got in without a second thought. "Where's Bulk?"

"On patrol," Tracks said, driving away. "Ironhide wants everyone out looking for the Nemesis, but Ratchet disagreed."

"So that's why you're here," Miko said. "Do we have to pick up Jack and Raf too?"

"Yes," Tracks said, turning the corner, headed for Raf's house. He was sitting outside, checking his watch when they pulled up. Miko rolled down the window, waving at Raf.

"Come on," she said. "We're going to be late."

Raf ran to the car, climbing into the back seat.

"Where's Bee?" he asked.

"He's fine," Tracks said. "You'll see him tonight."

Raf frowned, but settled back into his seat. "Something's happened, hasn't it?"

The question nearly made Tracks slam on the breaks, but he caught himself. Fragile cargo, no matter that they were strapped in. Ratchet would kill him.

"Yes," he said.

"Oh," Raf said, pulling a textbook out of his pack.

Miko looked over the seat at him.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," Raf said. "I need to study for my math test."

Miko shrugged, turning back around, enjoying the ride.

And they went through the routine again when picking up Jack, and thankfully, the Autobot dropped them off at school. He parked across the street and down a block where he could keep tabs on them. He, of all Autobots, had better things to do, and his talents were being wasted, but here he was, sparkling-sitting, and anything to get away from base.

The atmosphere there felt too much like it had on Cybertron after Tyger Pax. Tracks wouldn't admit the tension and desperation were getting to him, but it was. The haunted look the day before in Bumblebee's optics as Ratchet tried to assure him everything would be all right as he put the scout under for repairs. Arcee standing nearby, watching, letting no one touch her. And Springer. . .Primus, Tracks had never seen him like that before. . .out of control, crazy, and not even Bluestreak or Ironhide could calm him. Ironhide. What could Tracks say about him? The mech was a good tactical unit leader, but he wasn't a leader. Not like Ultra Magnus, or even Kup, but at the moment, he was all they had.

He wondered how long Ratchet and Ironhide could hold them all together, if the two groups could learn to work together. They had been out of necessity, and would continue to do so. Except what they needed was their Prime.

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Hot Rod onlined, screaming in pain. He hung, suspended from chains, arms and shoulders on fire. That and the wound inflicted by Optimus nearly caused him to black out again, but he gritted his denta and concentrated on figuring out where he was. Decepticon brig. Great. How was he going to get out of this one?

And he noticed he wasn't alone as his vision cleared.

"What is your designation, Autobot? My name is Knock Out," the mech said.

"Why should I tell you?" Hot Rod said.

Knock Out stepped aside as a larger mech walked past him.

"Knock Out, leave us," Megatron said. "You've done your job."

"Yes, Lord Megatron," Knock Out said, trying to catch Hot Rod's eye before he left. Hot Rod wasn't looking anywhere but Megatron, so Knock Out left.

"Your name, Autobot," Megatron said, waiting several moments, but Hot Rod didn't answer. Megatron balled his right fist, punching him in the face. The Decepticon leader didn't hear the door to the holding cell open, continuing with his questioning.

"Tell me the truth, Autobot," Megatron said. "You came for him, didn't you?

Hot Rod spit in his face; Megatron raised his fist to strike him again, but the blow was stilled by Optimus Prime.

"Lord Megatron, is such treatment necessary?"

"Orion, this is none of your business. Funny, though, you should show concern for one you wounded so gravely," Megatron said.

"It was self-defense," Optimus said. "What you are doing is torture."

"Did Knock Out let you know what I was doing?" Megatron asked.

"I came to see how the prisoner was, and now I'm glad I did. Autobot or no, this is no way to treat an enemy," Optimus said.

"This prisoner, this Autobot, is one of the beings responsible for the destruction of our homeworld," Megatron said. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"It does," Optimus said. "But it does not change the fact. . ."

"Orion, leave," Megatron said. "Your concern has been noted, but this has nothing to do with you."

"Liar," Hot Rod rasped. "Optimus, he's lying. We came to get you. . ."

"Silence, Autobot," Megatron said, digging a claw into the wound in Hot Rod's side, twisting.

"Orion, I told you to leave," Megatron said. "Leave or I will have you removed."

"What does he mean, they came for me?" Optimus asked.

"They did come for you," Megatron said. "They came to make you a prisoner again, after we tried so long to get you back ourselves. Does that answer your question?"

Optimus frowned, nodding in affirmation.

"Then go," Megatron said. "This Autobot and I have much to discuss."

"He needs medical attention," Optimus said.

Megatron pulled his hand from Hot Rod's wound, turning to face Optimus.

"Orion, this Autobot's fate will be left to chance. If he's strong enough to live, then so be it," Megatron said, placing a hand on Optimus' shoulder. "But we will not waste precious Decepticon resources on saving an Autobot. Come. We will discuss this further."


	8. Chapter 8

Exigence

Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer stifled a scream as he felt a burning pain in his side, and the sudden awareness that the sensations weren't coming from his own body, but Hot Rod's. He hit his knees, and suddenly, Ratchet was at his side.

"What is it?" the medic asked, helping Springer up.

"Rodi," Springer said. "He's alive. Hurt, but alive."

"Can you communicate with him?" Ratchet said.

Springer's optics blanked as he concentrated on his bond with his brother, but he had no luck.

"Nothing," Springer said, disappointed.

"Try again later," Ratchet said. "At least you know he's alive."

He gave the younger mech a reassuring smile, going to look for Ironhide, noting the time. Tracks should've been back with the children already, but he was late.

:Tracks, you better have a good explanation why you're not here yet:

:We're on our way: he commed. :The kids were hungry, so I took them to a drive-through restaurant. They're fine:

He left out the part about the kid who tried to boost him that afternoon, then having to rez up a driver to keep from getting in trouble with Rafael's teacher and the police. The kid wasn't bad, for a sparkling. He just hoped the police didn't give Rafael's cousin Raoul any trouble while he was in town. He'd borrowed Raoul's likeness and name for a driver.

:You took them where?:

:Speedy Burger: Tracks said.

:You're letting them eat junk food? They're children. They need . . .:

Tracks cut him off. :They were hungry. The girl was whining. What was I supposed to do? Let them starve?:

:Have them here in 15 minutes, or else:

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Megatron paced, watching Orion. The other mech stood at attention, waiting. Megatron wanted to drive home the point of how unhappy he was with Orion, but he seemed oblivious. He didn't flinch, didn't move, merely waited patiently. But for how long, he couldn't guess. Optimus Prime was patient, unwavering. Orion was impetuous. The being standing before him was somewhere in between. So much like Orion had been, but tempered with steel. Still naive, trusting, questioning everything, but with a maturity that wasn't there before. Megatron knew he had to act with caution. He did not know what could trigger Optimus' memories to return, but he was going to take advantage of the situation for as long as he could. He came to a stop in front of Orion.

"Orion, never question me in front of a prisoner, or a subordinate again," Megatron said. "I am leader here, not you. This is not Cybertron, this is not a democracy. We are at war, and lives are at stake."

He watched Orion's optics narrow slightly, the balled right fist, felt the sudden flare in his energy field.

"If you have questions, ask them now, in private," Megatron said. "You know you can talk to me. You always used to seek my council. . .before what they did to you."

"Why did he call me Optimus?" Orion asked.

"You don't remember-but before, on Cybertron, the Autobot High Council captured you, tried to use you as a pawn in the war. They wanted to declare you the last Prime. They forced an artifact upon you-the Matrix of Leadership. It altered your appearance, making you as you are now, and took your memories," Megatron said. "We brought you back in the fold when you purged the Matrix. You returned to your former self, your true self, Orion."

He placed his hands on the other mech's shoulders. "Trouble yourself no more over this," Megatron said. "The Autobot's fate is none of your concern. They will pay for what they've done to you."

Orion pushed Megatron away. "I will not be used as an excuse to exact revenge on anyone," he said. "There has to be another way."

"You wish to try diplomacy? After they came here-attacked us in our home, trying to take you away again?" Megatron asked.

Orion didn't answer, thinking. Megatron did have a way with words. He always had, but something didn't ring true. How could it, when he didn't remember any of it? He remembered Cybertron, then this new world, Earth. Nothing until Megatron called his name, and they went through the bridge, and onto the Nemesis. And the name. . .Optimus, was a name for a Prime. Also, there were Megatron's claims about the Matrix of Leadership. It was an artifact he'd read about in Iaconian archives. Legend had it the Matrix was earned, not given. One had to be worthy, and he was not.

"Is this matter settled?" Megatron asked.

Orion nodded. It was, for the moment.

88888

Ratchet watched Springer and Bumblebee play video games with Miko and Raf. Jack was gone, as one of his co-workers called in sick, and he went in to take his place, and Arcee took him. Bluestreak was on monitor duty, while Blaster helped Perceptor work on the ground bridge. They were "tweaking" the protocols, as Perceptor called it. Blaster was keeping an eye on Perceptor, making sure he didn't get too creative with new code. Ratchet had a hard time keeping everything functioning as it was, even with Wheeljack's help. And the engineer and Bulkhead were out on patrol together. Ratchet wondered when they would just come clean about the change in their relationship. He respected their privacy, and would continue to do so. He appreciated their discretion. It was refreshing when compared with, say Springer and Bluestreak. Or Ironhide. Public displays of affection in front of the children. . .he did not want to have to explain to Fowler, or Nurse Darby, but the children had proven they could keep their mouths shut. They had revealed nothing about the Autobots' existence to anyone.

His thoughts drifted back to Ironhide. Crazy, stubborn fragger. The weapons specialist made certain that afternoon Ratchet knew he was immovable on two subjects-regaining his trust and affection, and getting Optimus back. Of the first, Ratchet had no doubt, with Ironhide ambushing him, dragging him into a supply closet, and showing him with another spark merge. He knew Ironhide cared, how much the other mech wanted him, and there was no lying, no hiding from each other during a merge. The only thing more intimate between two Cybertronians was a hard-line connection, or a bond.

It hadn't come up yet, but another matter was on Ironhide's mind. Ratchet was angry, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could've refused a spark merge, but he hadn't. Twice now. And he didn't want to think about what would happen if he was sparked. He figured it wasn't if, so much as a certainty where his luck was concerned.


	9. Chapter 9

Exigence

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide made himself scarce, dragging Tracks out of the base with him, on the pretense of patrol. He just wanted to get away for a while. Ratchet had things well in hand. And the medic was angry with him. Not unusual at all. Ratchet had spent a significant amount of time angry at him over the course of their long relationship. This time, though, the medic had a valid reason for his ire-he'd figured out Ironhide was trying to get him sparked.

Ironhide made up his mind long before if and when he crossed paths with the medic again, he wasn't going to waste time like he had before. He wasn't going to take anything for granted. Only a few weeks on Earth, and back around Ratchet, and he still felt the same as he always had-he wanted Ratchet, and no one else. The medic still cared, too. Ironhide was grateful for that. Except Ratchet was stubborn-the war was no excuse to stop living. Yes, they were dealing with almost insurmountable odds in trying to get Optimus back, but they would get through it, one way or another. Throwing their relationship and a sparkling into the mix would just be another complication to deal with.

:Are we going to keep driving in circles or are you really that afraid of Ratchet?: Tracks commed.

Ironhide pulled off the road, Tracks following. The black mech transformed, and Tracks joined him.

"We'll head back in a while," Ironhide said, ignoring Tracks' comment about Ratchet. "Besides, I didn't think you were that eager to spend more time with the children."

"They're not that bad," Tracks said.

"This from the bot that called them 'noisy, smelly, dirty squishees?'" Ironhide asked, optic ridge raised in amusement.

"I was wrong," Tracks said. "Jack is mature for his age, Miko's taste in music isn't that bad, and Raf is curious without being too annoying."

Ironhide smiled. Tracks and "humble" didn't go in the same sentence, but he was glad the other mech was adjusting well.

"I have been thinking, though," Tracks said. "What do we do next?"

Ironhide sobered. An unusual question, coming from Tracks. The mech was special ops before joining his unit, and not exactly a team player. That he was asking spoke volumes about how out of control matters truly were.

"I'm still thinking that," Ironhide said.

"Bumblebee will be out of commission for several days, and Springer is compromised," Tracks said. "You'll be lucky if he doesn't try to storm the Nemesis himself to get Hot Rod back."

"Springer isn't that stupid," Ironhide said.

"No, but his judgment will be impaired if he's included in another strike on the Nemesis," Tracks said. "Taking our numbers down further."

"I know our operational status," Ironhide said. "But thank you for trying to come up with something. I wish Prowl were here. He would be so much better at this. . ."

"I know," Tracks said. "Want to head back? Maybe that medic of yours has calmed down."

88888

Hot Rod struggled against his bonds. They wouldn't give, and the stasis field surrounding him guaranteed he couldn't transform. Comms blocked, and no way out. But he had an ace in the hole, as the humans said. He concentrated. Distance and his weakened condition made it more difficult, but maybe he could get through, give them an idea of where he was, and what was going on. The connection was there, always there. Faint, but he could sense Springer.

Spring. Damn it, don't block me out when I need you. C'mon.

Rodi? Surprise tinged Springer's voice. Where are you? Are you all right?

Wounded, but don't hurt much anymore. Weak. In brig. But that's not important. I saw Optimus. Megatron is lying to him, but I don't think he's buying it. You've got to get us out of here.

He let go when he heard the door slid open. The lights were dim, but blue optics shown through the dark, not red.

"What is your name?" Optimus asked.

"Hot Rod," he replied. "I was assigned to Ironhide's tactical unit. We met a couple of times before Tyger Pax. All disciplinary hearings. You weren't impressed with my service record."

Optimus' expression didn't change. "You expect me to believe we met before?"

"We have," Hot Rod said. "You just don't remember. Ironhide. Does that name jog your memory? Big black mech, even bigger cannons, loves explosions, and he's your best friend?"

"None of what you say means anything to me," Optimus said.

Hot Rod vented air in a sigh. Optimus truly did not remember anything.

"You're Optimus Prime," he said. "Autobot leader. They called you the last of the Primes, but Alpha Trion considered you the first of the new, the hope of our people."

Optimus' optics met his own. "You knew Alpha Trion?"

"I only met him once," Hot Rod said, not sure how much he should say about that meeting. "But he believed in you. We all did, still do. Ironhide would follow you to the Pit and back. We risked our lives to come here. Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"I am Orion Pax," he said. "And it means you're foolish, Autobot. I am not, cannot be the one you speak of."

"You're not Orion Pax," Hot Rod said. "I know you have no reason to believe me, but doesn't it make more sense that what Megatron told you? He's lying. I don't trust him any further than I could throw Omega Supreme, and neither should you. He started the war. He destroyed Cybertron. Some part of you has to doubt him, right? Think about it."

Optimus regarded the other mech a few moments before turning and walking away, leaving Hot Rod alone.


	10. Chapter 10

Exigence

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide let himself into Ratchet's quarters. The medic was in recharge, and Ironhide sat down on the edge of the berth, watching Ratchet. The worries of the waking world were gone from the medic's face. Ironhide knew he was one of those worries, He wasn't making matters any easier for the other mech, and knew he should apologize for it. Getting Optimus back was their main priority, and Ironhide was letting his own desires get ahead of the mission. He was usually more objective than that, but where Ratchet was concerned, it was hard. Especially after finding him alive after wondering for so long.

Everything was so tangled, and Ironhide hadn't yet tried sorting it all out. One thing at a time, he mused. Getting Optimus back and making things right with Ratchet were two of his main priorities. Then there was making sure everyone else didn't fall apart in the meantime. Hoping Ultra Magnus and the others were alive. The Xantium was crewed by Magnus, Kup, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Red Alert, Prowl, Jazz, Blurr and few other stragglers they'd picked up in the colonies. Then there was the ship's cargo-a gestalt in stasis, meaning five more Autobots in addition to the rest the Xantium carried. There was also the ship itself, one of the most fearsome weapons in the Autobot arsenal. The Xantium wasn't as big as the Decepticon Nemesis, but it at the time of its commission, was on the cutting edge of Cybertronian technology. Where the Nemesis was a cudgel, the Xantium was a sword. Ironhide sighed at that thought. If they had the Xantium, finding the Nemesis would've been so much easier. They could just track the ship, lock on, bridge in, storm the place and get Optimus and Hot Rod back.

Unfortunately, human technology wasn't that advanced, even with the changes made by Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor. So here they were, a bunch of ground-pounders going up against Megatron's flagship. They could try again-use the bridge as they had, but without schematics of the ship, it would be useless. Or, if they made another attempt, he could personally grab the nearest Decepticon and pound Hot Rod's location out of him. That was a viable option, Ironhide thought, laying down next to Ratchet. He smiled as the medic settled in against him, dropping into recharge.

88888

"No I'm not skipping school-it's an inservice day, so we have it off," Miko said, hands on hips, giving Ratchet a defiant glare. "Well, Raf and I do. Jack is working. Again."

The sight of the tiny female staring down Ratchet was amusing to Ironhide.

"Ratchet, leave her alone," he said. "Even if they are skipping, the world will not end because of it."

The medic whipped around, facing the other mech. "Their education is of the utmost importance," he said.

"So is time off, which I'm sure you haven't had in ages," Ironhide said, switching his attention to Miko. "Correct?"

"Yeah," she said. "I don't think he's had a day off since I met him."

"She's right," Raf chimed in.

"I. Do. Not. Need. A. Day. Off."

"You do if you're denying it," Ironhide said. "Ratchet, you're taking a day off. Actually, everyone is. 24 hours, starting now. We need time to regroup, think, relax. This is it. This time tomorrow, we begin searching for the Nemesis again."

"No," Ratchet said.

"Yes," Ironhide said, grabbing the other mech by the wrist, dragging him outside. "You and I are taking a drive. We won't be gone long."

88888

Knock Out surveyed the most recent damage done to the Autobot prisoner. His armor was scratched and gouged from Megatron's questioning. The Autobot's energy levels were at 23 percent, and dropping. If they dropped more, he would go into stasis lock, or die. The medic knew he had several options, and none of them good. However, the more he weighed one, the more he knew it was the best choice. He would comm Optimus, or Orion, or whatever the damn Autobot leader wanted to be called. And they were going to have a little talk about Lord Megatron and his lying.

Knock Out had no problem with Megatron torturing a prisoner, but he did take issue with harboring the Autobot leader on the Nemesis, their home. What was to keep the Prime from remembering, and unleashing on them all? Then there was the matter of how reckless Megatron was becoming since Optimus' arrival on the Nemesis-like the Autobot's presence was more important than any real Decepticon. He'd given Optimus the Decepticon brand himself, but he still had his reservations about the whole thing. But now it was time to take matters into his own hands.

88888

Orion stood at his station, monitoring for Autobot communications, listening to Megatron tell Soundwave how disgusted he was with how weak the prisoner in the brig was. How the Autobot passed out during his questioning.

"Angry" didn't cover Orion's feelings on the matter. He did not agree with Megatron's methods, torturing an already wounded prisoner. An atrocity, and something Megatron obviously took pleasure in.

Unfortunately for Megatron, he was unaware Orion was searching through the ship's archives, looking for information backing up the Decepticon leader's claims regarding the war, Cybertron and the Autobots. No evidence in the archives suggested Megatron was telling the truth. Then there was the issue of their recent attack on the ship-the Nemesis' damage was minimal, as if targeting the ship itself, and Megatron, was not their goal, as he claimed.

The bridge doors opening, revealing Knock Out made Orion pause in his search. He watched as the medic approached Megatron.

"What do you want?" Megatron asked.

"I thought you would like to know if you keep up your. . .interrogation of the prisoner, you're not going to have a prisoner to question," Knock Out said.

"Then you better make sure he's alive long enough for me to get the information I want," Megatron said.

Knock Out frowned. This was new. "I thought you said I wasn't to allow him to refuel, or offer any repairs. . ." And suddenly he found himself on the floor, energon bleeding from the corner of his mouth.

"I changed my mind," Megatron said, turning away.

Knock Out picked himself up off the floor, feeling optics on him. Optimus. :Come talk to me when you get a chance: he commed.

The other mech nodded.

88888

Ratchet kept the drive short for Ironhide, saying he had things to do back at the base. Nothing major, he said, which did keep Ironhide off his back. And he didn't bother him while he "tinkered" with his medical equipment while Ironhide watched Bumblebee, Bluestreak and Springer play video games with the children. Then he had to wait until the children left and he could get the hub back to himself. The results couldn't be what his own systems and every scan he ran corroborated. He even asked Perceptor to run his own scan after watching the scientist recalibrate the equipment. Now he stood in the hub, looking at the screens, staring at the damage.

:Ironhide, would you please join me in the hub?: Ratchet commed.

:Be there in a moment: Ironhide answered, and seconds later, he walked in, a questioning look on his face.

"I hope you're happy," Ratchet said, pointing at the main screen, which showed a scan of a spark, with another umbilicaled to it.

Ironhide frowned. "What am I looking at?"

"Your offspring," Ratchet said.

Ironhide looked from Ratchet, back to the screen, and back at the medic. "You mean. . ."

"I'm sparked," Ratchet said.

"That fast?" Ironhide asked.

"It only takes once," Ratchet snapped.

"You're not happy about this?" Ironhide said.

"Happy? Our leader is gone, in Decepticon hands, every one of us is needed to fight, and you. . ." Ratchet said. "You can find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

"Ratch," Ironhide said, trying to place his hands on the medic's shoulders, but he pushed him away.

"Don't 'Ratch' me," he said. "I knew this would happen. . .Ironhide, I do care for you, and I know we have much to discuss, but please, for now, leave me alone."

"All right," Ironhide said, watching the medic walk away.


	11. Chapter 11

Exigence

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Knock Out checked his patient's vitals. Not quite within normal operating parameters, but much better than before. The Autobot prisoner, Hot Rod, was laid out on his medical berth, unconscious. Knock Out had done some basic repairs and given the Autobot an infusion of energon. The prisoner was also unbound. With weapons onlined should he need them.

Satisfied the Autobot's condition was stable, Knock Out turned his attention to another pressing matter.

:Meet me in the med bay: he commed Optimus Prime.

He waited several minutes until the other mech entered the med bay, a puzzled look on his face.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Orion asked.

"Yes," Knock Out said. "I'm going to make this quick. Megatron is lying. Your fellow Autobot was right."

Orion frowned. "Why would Lord Megatron lie to me?"

Knock Out resisted the urge to pound his face into his workbench. "Because he is Megatron, leader of the Decepticons," he said. "Because you've lost your memories, and can't remember who you really are. You are Optimus Prime. I'll show you the information in the archives, if you like."

"You can't be telling the truth," Orion said. "Is this a test of my loyalty?"

"Do you think I would risk my life to tell you a lie?" Knock Out asked. "This Autobot is telling the truth, and so am I. You can't trust Megatron. I know you have doubts. You should trust what your own intuition is telling you.

Orion would give Knock Out that-he did trust Megatron less and less, the latest incident with the medic and more torture of the prisoner proved that.

"Lord Megatron is becoming increasingly unstable," he said.

Knock Out looked up from his work. "He's been this way a long time," he said.

"How so?" Orion asked.

"Dark energon," Knock Out said. "Don't you remember?"

"No," Orion said.

"Dark Energon-the fabled blood of Unicron is what sustains Megatron's spark," Knock Out said. "It is also the substance that contaminated the very heart of Cyberton, making it uninhabitable."

"This Autobot made the same claim," Orion said.

"He was telling the truth," Knock Out said, looking over at Hot Rod, who was starting to wake up. "About time you joined us, Autobot."

Hot Rod started to retort, but stopped, seeing Optimus Prime.

"What is going on?" Hot Rod asked, noticing he was unbound, and partly repaired.

"I'm trying to convince your precious Prime that Megatron is lying," Knock Out said. "Unfortunately, he won't believe me."

"Hate to break it to you, Optimus, but you've been lied to," Hot Rod said. "And now that I'm free, we're getting out of here."

88888

Patrol over and having no desire to head back to base just yet, Bluestreak pulled off the main road, Springer following until the other mech came to a stop near the edge of one of the area's many canyons. Springer transformed, and Bluestreak followed suit, stepping up to the other mech. Bluestreak wrapped his arms around Springer, resting his chin on the other mech's shoulder. Springer squeezed his hand, venting air.

"If you're thinking about Rodi, he'll be fine," Bluestreak said.

"Ever the optimist," Springer said. "I hope you're right."

"I know I am," Bluestreak said. "He's tough. Just like you. He's come out of scrapes before."

"Yeah, but not like this one," Springer said. "If he wasn't so damn reckless. . ."

"And you're not?" Bluestreak asked.

"I know, but I try to think before I act. Rodi just charges in, guns blazing," Springer said. "The one thing Kup could never beat out of him."

"Or you," Bluestreak said. "He never complained about me."

"No, because you're the best shot he's ever seen," Springer said. "But Prowl always complained about how hard Kup pushed you."

Bluestreak smiled at the thought of his brother. "What do you think he'll say when he finds out I'm with you?" he asked.

"Prowl will have a conniption when he finds out about us," Springer said. "Do you really think they're alive?"

He felt Bluestreak shrug. "I can't believe they're not," he said. "I won't accept that until I know otherwise. Besides, can you imagine the look on his face when he does find out?"

"I have," Springer said, leaning back against Bluestreak, whose grip on him tightened. The stood that way a while, enjoying each other's company, and the quiet. Silence was a bit of a stretch for Bluestreak, who talked all the time, but he could remember one time he didn't. Much. He wasn't really a shy mech, but the first time he met Springer, he hadn't said much, merely stammered a greeting before going back to hiding behind Smokescreen. Then came the lecture from Prowl, about staying away from mechs like Springer, who were a bad influence. Ironic, considering their older brother's compulsive gambling habit and Prowl's eventual bonding with Jazz, who had questionable origins and ties to Cybertron's underground.

Bluestreak knew Springer wasn't a bad mech. He never had been. Temperamental and rash sometimes, but he was loyal, easy-going and a good brother to his twin, and a true friend once you got to know him. Unfortunately, in the beginning, Prowl had a problem with his illegal activities and that ended quickly when he realized he was using it as a cover to feed the authorities information on the Decepticons. By that time, Hot Rod was no longer racing and a member of the civilian defense forces, and later. But that didn't last long with the end of the war, and their exodus from Cybertron.

Blustreak finally broke the silence. "Prowl can preach all he wants, but he's not been the best example, despite what he thinks," he said. "He bonded Jazz, and he's the one who assassinated Jhiaxus. And Smokey had a fling with that bounty hunter Devcon, and do you remember when they pulled him from active duty because of his gambling debts and made him become the crisis counselor for our district?"

"How could I forget?" Springer asked. "That was right when Prowl became Optimus Prime's second in command, and when we had to pull out of Praxus before its fall."

Springer twined fingers with Bluestreak, feeling the other mech shudder at the memory of the loss of his home. Bluestreak and his brothers were some of the only survivors of Praxus.

"Someday it'll be rebuilt," Springer said. "Praxus. Iacon will be restored."

"Too far in the future to even think about," Bluestreak said. "I'd rather consider that question I asked you before we lost the Aeon."

"You work fast," Springer said.

"How long did it take me to let you know I was interested?" Bluestreak retorted.

"Long enough," Springer said. "For a while I thought you hated me."

"I just didn't know what to say to you," Bluestreak said. "Prowl was always keeping an eye on me, and I had to beg Kup and Magnus to assign me to the Aeon. Kup would've done it in a spark-beat he said, but Magnus had to have a valid reason, so I told him Ironhide was always complaining about being short-handed, so he transferred me."

"You never told me that," Springer said.

"Didn't think it mattered," Bluestreak said. "Did you tell Rodi I asked?" Bluestreak said.

"Never got a chance," Springer said. "And I never gave you an answer."

"No," Bluestreak said. "But you've had a lot on your mind. I figure you'll give me an answer when you're ready. I can wait. Besides, I'm happy to have you at all."

In the heat of the moment, Bluestreak had asked Springer to bond with him. He figured Springer would ask at some point, considering he was the dominant personality in their relationship, but Bluestreak didn't want to waste time. At least it was out in the open. And he'd had a good example in how fast a courtship could turn serious. Prowl and Jazz's courtship lasted two Cybertronian stellar cycles, or not quite one and a half human years before they logical, steady Prowl bonded Jazz flew in the face of what most Autobots knew about the second in command. Jazz was Prowl's opposite in almost every way. Emotional, vibrant, outgoing, where Prowl was cool, calm and quiet. Jazz complemented Prowl, much the way he had Orion Pax before he became Optimus Prime.

"We need to head back," Springer said.

"Yeah," Bluestreak said, letting go of the other mech.

88888

One verbal slip-up from Perceptor and that was it. One minute Ratchet was cleaning up his workspace, barely tolerating Ironhide's hovering presence, listening to Perceptor drone on and the next, Miko was jumping into the conversation when she zeroed in on what the scientist was saying. Something about educating them on proper caretaker etiquette and sparkling-proofing the base and the teenager made a leap of logic. A feat Ratchet would later note for posterity, but not now.

"Ratchet's gonna have a baby?" Miko said, looking up at Ironhide. Then she turned to Ratchet. "Are you gonna get fat? How long will it take? Got any names picked out? Can I babysit?"

Alarmed, Jack grabbed her by the shoulders. "Miko, shut up," he said, noticing the look on Ratchet's face-somewhere between anger and amusement, but he knew it could go either way. Fast.

"Miko, I'm not sure how appropriate it would be for me to answer those questions right now," Ratchet said. "Maybe later." Like when I've throttled Ironhide and had a chance to calm down, he added silently.

"I take it you have not shared your happy news with the others yet?" Perceptor asked.

"No," Ratchet said.

"Well, they will need to know," Perceptor said.

"And I will tell them," Ratchet said. "When I'm ready. Say another word about my condition, and I will. . ."

Ironhide clamped a hand over the medic's mouth.

"Percy, keep it to yourself," he said, then looked down at Miko and Jack. "Breathe a word of what you just heard to anyone, and I will reduce you both to skid marks. Do you understand?"

Jack nodded in affirmation, dragging Miko away.

Ironhide let Ratchet go. "Perceptor, don't you have something constructive to do? Like tracking the Nemesis' ion trail?" Ratchet asked.

"I could," Perceptor said.

"Do it. That's an order," Ratchet said.

Perceptor looked to Ironhide for confirmation. He nodded at them, then turned his attention to his data pad. Ironhide grabbed the medic by the arm, hauling him down the corridor until they were out of earshot.

"The others are going to need to know," Ironhide said. "Soon."

"I know," Ratchet said. "I'm still trying to come to terms with the fact I'm carrying."

"So you're accepting of it?" Ironhide said.

"I don't have much choice, do I, now that I am sparked," Ratchet said. "I'm just not happy with the timing."

"You're not angry with me then?" Ironhide asked, hopeful.

Ratchet snorted.

"You can't stay mad at me long," Ironhide said.

"Wanna bet?" Ratchet said.

"Ratch, it'll be all right, if that's what you're worried about," Ironhide said. "You're healthy, and shouldn't have any problems with the gestation, and Perceptor and Wheeljack can handle it, can't they?"

That mollified him somewhat, that Ironhide had considered there could be complications. Perceptor could likely deal with his care during the gestation. The scientist had more experience with surgery and repairs, and could probably handle the emergence of one sparkling, provided there were no complications. Wheeljack had decent medical abilities, and they could pick up the slack if he was incapacitated by carrying. Ratchet didn't doubt their abilities. He was more afraid of birthing a sparkling on alien world without the proper medical facilities. But he didn't say it out loud.

"I'm a medic, and I think I can manage my own health," Ratchet said. "To answer your question, their skills are adequate."

"First Aid and his gestalt were on the Xantium," Ironhide said. "Maybe if they're still out there, they'll get here before the sparkling is born."

"That doesn't do me much good," Ratchet said.

"Cynic," Ironhide said.

"I'm a realist," Ratchet said. "Don't you have something to do? I don't need you mooning over me. I'm newly sparked, and can will be able to carry out my duties for a while yet."

"What if I want to moon over you?" Ironhide asked.

"Save it for later, when I'm going to need it," Ratchet said. "I'm going back to work and you need to apologize to the children."

"Yes sir," Ironhide said, following the medic back to the hub. Maybe he was right, and everything would work out. Ironhide fervently hoped it would.

88888

Hot Rod grabbed Optimus by the wrist, dragging him from the med bay and down a corridor.

"Which way is the command hub?" Hot Rod asked.

"Why?" Optimus asked.

"Last time I checked, neither of us can fly, so we're going to need bridged off this ship," Hot Rod said. "Are there controls for the ground bridge elsewhere, or can it be remotely accessed?"

"The controls are in the command center, and only Soundwave can activate the bridge by remote," Optimus said.

"Damn," Hot Rod said, stopping. "We can't comm out, because they'll be on us in no time. . .got any ideas?"

"I think this is a bad idea," Optimus said. "I could try and convince Lord Megatron to give you your freedom."

"An even worse idea," Hot Rod said. "We are getting off this ship. You are coming with me. Not open for negotiation. Which way is the command hub?"

Optimus vented air in a sigh. He was not going to fight the Autobot unless he had to.

"Follow me," he said. Hot Rod followed, onlining his weapons. It took only a few moments to reach the command center.

"You activate the bridge," Hot Rod said as they entered. "I'll cover you."

Optimus nodded, accepting. He wasn't going to leave the Nemesis, not yet, but he would bridge the Autobot to safety. The doors slid open, and they went in. Optimus' presence on the bridge wasn't unexpected, but suddenly every optic was on the Autobot firing at anything that moved. A few of the Vehicons started to attack, but Megatron stilled them with a motion of his hand.

"The Autobot is mine," he said, aiming at the flame-colored mech causing so much mayhem, but Optimus put himself between the Decepticon leader and Autobot.

"Orion, you disappoint me," Megatron said

"Let him go," Optimus said.

"Why should I?" Megatron said, watching the Autobot as he came to stand by Optimus.

"What are you doing?" Hot Rod said, tugging on Optimus' arm. "We need to go. Now."

"Then go," Megatron said. "Soundwave, activate the bridge. Get this garbage off my ship."

The bridge coalesced behind Optimus and Hot Rod.

"C'mon," Hot Rod said. "What are you waiting for?"

Then there was nothing but a flash of light, the roar of the bridge closing around him then the ground rushing up to meet him. Then nothing.


	12. Chapter 12

Exigence

Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The annoying beep from the screen wouldn't stop, so Tracks finally gave it the attention it deserved, trying to silence the alarm, going back to his data pad. It wouldn't go off, so he tried silencing it again, but it didn't work. Then he looked at the screen, and dropped his data pad. Two Autobot life signs, 75 miles away.

:Ironhide, Ratchet, get in here NOW: he commed, waiting for the two mechs to show. Ironhide ran into the hub, followed by the medic.

"What is it?" Ironhide asked.

"Two Autobot life signs just showed up out of nowhere-it's Hot Rod and Optimus Prime," he said.

"Activate the ground bridge," Ironhide said, comming Wheeljack and Blaster to join him. He wasn't going by himself. "Ratchet, get ready. I don't know what kind of condition we'll find them in. . ."

Ratchet nodded, watching as bridge opened, and Ironhide and the other two mechs walked through.

88888

Orion Pax knelt down on one knee beside the Autobot, Hot Rod, checking to see if the other mech was alive. He was-barely. He didn't know where they were, how to get back to the Nemesis. . .and a bridge portal appeared. Onlining his weapons, he stepped in front of the fallen Autobot.

Three mechs came out of the ground bridge, weapons pointing at him. Autobots. Orion watched as the one in front offlined his weapons as he approached-a large black mech with cannons on each arm.

"Optimus? How did you get here?" he asked. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter now. Wheeljack, Blaster, get Hot Rod."

Ironhide commed Tracks, who bridged them back.

Ratchet watched as Blaster and Wheeljack came through first, carrying an injured Hot Rod. They placed him on a berth, and the medic began assessing his condition, pausing only a second when Ironhide came through, followed by their Prime.

"Perceptor, establish a hardline connection," Ratchet said. "We're going to induce stasis, stop the bleeding and patch him up."

Perceptor nodded, going to work.

88888

Ironhide regarded his Prime. He looked fine, except for the Decepticon symbol branded into his shoulder, and the look of calm resignation on his face.

"How did Hot Rod get hurt?" Ironhide asked. First things first, he thought.

"We were in the Nemesis' command center, I tried to get between the Autobot. . .Hot Rod, and Lord Megatron, to shield him from the blast, but I was too late. Then we were bridged off the ship," Optimus said. "And here we are."

"Do you know who I am?" Ironhide said.

"No," Optimus said. "Should I?"

"I'm Ironhide," he said. "You truly do not remember who you are?"

"I am Orion Pax, yet others keep insisting I am Optimus Prime."

"You are Prime," Ironhide said.

"How can I believe any of you?" Optimus said.

"Proof of what Megatron is capable of is lying right there behind you," Ironhide said, pointing at where Ratchet and Perceptor were working on Hot Rod. "He lied to you. Accept it."

He was about to say more when Bluestreak and Springer entered the hub, just returned from patrol. Springer's optics widened, and he walked toward the medical area, but Ironhide stopped him. Springer struggled against the other mech's hold.

"Let me go," Springer said. "I want to see Rodi."

"Damn it," Ironhide said, grip tightening on the younger mech. He shot Optimus a look. "Don't just stand there. Help me get him out of here."

Optimus complied, taking the green mech by one arm, Ironhide by the other, and the forcefully dragged him from the hub, Bluestreak following. Ironhide stopped in front of Ratchet's quarters, opened the door, shoving Springer inside.

"Blue, stay with him. Don't let him out until I say you can," Ironhide said, watched Bluestreak walk inside as the door closed.

"Why is. . ."

"Springer so upset?" Ironhide finished. "Hot Rod is his twin. That's why. You and I need to have a talk. A long one. And Ratchet is going to want to take a look at you, but I don't know when he'll be able to get around to it. I can't babysit you. . ."

"Am I to assume I'm going to be a prisoner?" Optimus asked.

"Not really," Ironhide said, comming Wheeljack.

:Jackie, got a job for you:

:What?:

:I need you to break the lock on Optimus' quarters so I have a place to put him until we can get this mess sorted out. And would you mind guarding the door so he doesn't go wandering around?:

:No problem. Give me a few minutes: Wheeljack answered.

Five minutes and a small explosion later, Wheeljack had the lock off and Ironhide escorted Optimus to his quarters. He followed the Prime in as he looked around.

"Whose quarters are these?" he asked, looking back at the other mech.

"Yours," Ironhide said, arms crossed. "Recognize anything?"

"No."

"Well, have a good look around," Ironhide said. "Wheeljack will be outside if you need anything."

And he found himself alone in unfamiliar surroundings. It was sparse-berth, desk, not much in the way of personal possessions or touches except a few empty data cylinders of a type he recognized from the Iaconian archives. Some crystal fragments and a stack of data pads were also set on the desk. He picked one up, turning it on, reading the data on the screen-supply lists. He scrolled through the other documents, finding reports, duty rosters and not much else. The same on all the other pads. He vented air in a sigh, sitting down on the edge of the berth. Nothing to do now but wait.

88888

Ratchet stretched, ignoring the creaking as his joints unlimbered from standing in one place so long. He was going to grab some energon then go keep an eye on his patient. He trusted Perceptor, but it was his responsibility to watch over Hot Rod.

The medic frowned when he realized he was being followed.

"You need to rest," Ironhide said.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said.

"You saved a life tonight," Ironhide said.

"Two," Ratchet said. "If you count the fact Springer is still alive because I saved Hot Rod."

"Fine. Two lives then, but they're not the only two I'm concerned about. You need to take care of yourself, and our sparkling," Ironhide said.

"I feel fine. Just tired," Ratchet said. "A little low on energy, but it's nothing to do with the gestation. I can rest while I'm keeping an eye on Hot Rod."

"Let Perceptor do it, or Wheeljack," Ironhide said. "Even Bulkhead can watch a monitor."

"Fine. A few hours, then I'll relieve Perceptor," Ratchet said. "By the way-what did you do with Optimus?"

"Put him in his quarters with Wheeljack as guard," Ironhide said. "That reminds me-I should probably get somebody to spell him, and let Springer loose as well."

Ratchet watched as the other mech's optics dimmed as he commed someone.

"Tracks will take care of it," Ironhide said. "And I hope you don't mind-I left Springer in your quarters with Bluestreak. I figured you wouldn't want him in the way while you worked on Hot Rod."

"It did help expedite Hot Rod's repairs," Ratchet said. "Although I do hope those two did not use my berth for their extracurricular activities to keep themselves occupied."

Ironhide ignored the comment, slipping an arm across the medic's shoulders. For the moment, he could actually believe everything would be all right.


	13. Chapter 13

Exigence

Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The Nemesis

Knock Out was annoyed. Middle of the night, pulled away from Breakdown, and by his Pit-damned leader requesting an audience. Megatron had probably figured out his involvement in the Autobots' escape. Or he'd discovered the other secret Knock Out was keeping. There would be hell to pay on both counts. The medic vented air, steeling himself for the coming encounter as he entered the command hub. And his optics widened when he saw Breakdown in stasis cuffs between two Vehicons. Megatron worked fast. But that was beside the point.

"I'd like to know how the Autobot got loose," Megatron said. "I'll rip out your mate's other optic if you don't tell me."

Knock Out's intakes hitched, almost stalling at the threat. Breakdown was the one thing Knock Out cared about more than himself.

"I don't know," Knock Out lied.

Megatron dug his claws into the plating around Breakdown's remaining optic.

"You get one more chance before I tear out his optic," Megatron said. "Or the new spark he carries. Your choice."

"How. . ."

"Nothing escapes me," Megatron said. "Now answer the question."

Stalling wouldn't be good, Knock Out reflected. Lying again, even worse. And his bastard of a leader knew how to hurt him the most. How in the Pit did he find out Breakdown was sparked? It was an accident, but Megatron would never believe it. He probably wouldn't believe the truth about the Autobot escape, either. He started to talk, but a ping on his comm silenced him.

:Megatron-illogical. Erratic. New spark hope:

Soundwave, who was standing at Megatron's shoulder, watching the ordeal.

:What are you getting at?: Knock Out asked.

:Escape possible. Defiance this once logical:

Before Knock Out could once again question the other mech, he released the stasis cuffs on Breakdown, shoved him toward Knock Out and opened a space bridge right around the two. Knockout dragged Breakdown to his feet, and the two ran.

88888

Jack raised an eyebrow in interest when he saw what Autobot was parked on the street outside school, waiting. It was a green Jeep, but not Bulkhead.

"Springer?" Jack asked, approaching the vehicle.

"Unfortunately," Springer muttered. "Get in."

Jack did as he was told, climbing into the driver's seat.

"Where's Arcee and the others?" he asked.

"Busy," Springer said. "You'll find out when you get to base."

"Has something happened?"

"You could say that," Springer said. "Where are Raph and Miko?"

"They should be here any minute," Jack said, looking toward the school, where Miko was running down the front steps, Raph right on her heels.

"I am so glad to get out of there," Miko said, slightly out of breath as she climbed into the back seat. Raph slid in beside her, and Springer started up his engine, driving off.

"You're always glad to leave school," Raph said. "Y'know, maybe if you tried harder instead of texting your friends back in Japan all day, you might do better."

Jack turned around, surprised at Raph's snarkiness.

"School is just busy time until I get out and hit it big," Miko said.

Springer decided it would be a good idea to head off an argument, which he could sense brewing.

"There is nothing wrong with school," he said, not believing his own audios. "Even I had to suffer through a version of it when I joined the Autobots. Want me to tell you about it?"

"Sure," Raph piped up.

Springer started talking, grateful to have a distraction. He'd have to thank Ironhide for making him pick up the children. At least for a little while, he wasn't worrying about Hot Rod.

88888

Fowler paced, checking his watch. He wanted the meeting over so he could get back to Washington. He hoped when Ironhide said he had good news, it was good news. Like Optimus was back and ready to kick Decepticon tail. Ratchet wouldn't answer his questions, as the medic was ignoring him while he watched over a patient. . .Hot Rod. That was the bot's name. The one that got left behind on the Nemesis during their failed attempt at retrieving Optimus. Maybe that was the good news-they got one of them back. But he stopped wondering about it when he heard tires squealing, doors slamming, transformation and the sound of children arguing.

Fowler turned around, seeing Miko, Jack and Raf coming his way, while Bluestreak nearly knocked over Springer in his enthusiasm to hug the other mech. That was unusual, Fowler noted. Hot Rod was Springer's twin. Maybe Bluestreak and Springer were really good friends or something? Again, he was ignored by the bots as Springer made for Ratchet, who frowned.

"When Ironhide is done with this meeting, I'll give you an update on Hot Rod's condition," Ratchet said.

Springer glared at the medic, but accepted it. He'd waited all day, and a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

"When is somebody gonna answer some questions for me?" Fowler said, walking up to Ratchet.

"As soon as Ironhide gets his aft in here," Ratchet said, optics dimming as he commed the other mech. A few moments later, the black bot walked into the hub.

"The others already know. I'm sorry for waiting to tell you, Agent Fowler, but I wanted to tell you and the children at the same time," Ironhide said. "Optimus is here."

"That's the good news you wanted to share?" Fowler said.

"Yes," Ironhide said.

"Then where is Prime?"

"In his quarters, but there is a problem," Ironhide said.

"What kind of problem?" Fowler asked.

"Optimus doesn't remember being Prime," Ironhide said. "He doesn't recognize any of us."

Miko started to ask a question, but Jack clapped a hand over her mouth. Fowler shot the kid a grateful look. Now was not the time for one of the girl's colorful observations.

"Ratchet, have you looked him over yet?" Fowler said.

"Not yet," Ratchet answered. "I've had my hands full with finishing Hot Rod's repairs today. I'm going to get to it eventually."

"So that's it then," Fowler said. "I have to go. Keep me updated on Prime, OK?"

"We will," Ironhide said, watching the human go. "That went better than expected."

"Fortunately," Ratchet said.

"When are you going to examine Optimus?" Ironhide said.

"As soon as I can," Ratchet said.

"Good thing, too," Ironhide said. "He's bored out of his mind. I checked on him and he asked if he could have access to our archives. I told him no, of course."

"Can we see Optimus?" Raf asked.

"Not until I check him over," Ratchet said, standing. Ironhide started to go with him, but the medic stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. "No, you're not coming with me. I think I can handle Orion Pax. I knew him long before he became Optimus. Maybe he'll remember me, and if you go too, it will be more like an interrogation. Besides, I need someone to keep an eye on Hot Rod, and the children. It might as well be you."

88888

Ratchet nodded at a bored Tracks, who was standing guard at Optimus' door. The medic let himself inside the Prime's quarters, finding the other mech sitting on the edge of the berth.

"Hello Orion," Ratchet said, eying the Autobot leader for any signs of recognition. "How are you feeling? Do you remember me?"

"I feel fine," Optimus said. "And I do not remember you."

"I'm Ratchet," he said. "Autobot chief medical officer. I'm here to give you a checkup."

"You're not here to find out why I say I can't remember?" Optimus said.

Ratchet hesitated before answering. He hoped from the question Optimus was still in there somewhere. "I am," he said. "But first, I'm going to run some scans, ask you some questions and make sure you don't need any repairs. I'm not going to rush you. I can't imagine what you're going through, believing one thing, and being told another. I can promise you will not be harmed. You have my word as a medic. Now, can I get started?"

Optimus nodded.

Ratchet pulled out his toolkit, producing several different scanners. He started at Optimus' head, and worked his way down to his feet. He repeated the process from foot to head. Systems a little strained from the unrefined energon the Decepticons used, auto repair protocols online to compensate, energon levels at optimum. A few scratches and dents that needed some attention, but nothing glaringly wrong with the Prime, according to his scanners. Hopefully a deeper scan in the med bay would produce results, but for now, it was a start. And Ratchet had a few questions he wanted to ask the other mech in private. Just in case, covering all the bases, as the humans said. And he was not looking forward to it.

"Well?" Optimus asked.

"Preliminary scans show you're in good health, but I'd like to run a few more tests when I get a chance," Ratchet said. "Your systems are all operating within normal parameters, considering the circumstances of the past few months."

"Will there be anything more?" Optimus said.

"Yes," Ratchet said, pulling close the chair from the desk. "I have a couple of questions to ask. Personal, and unpleasant, but they need to be asked. Were you mistreated. . .or abused during your time on the Nemesis?"

"I was on the receiving end of Lord Megatron's temper on more than one occasion, but I was never physically harmed or mistreated in the way you suggest. Lord Megatron is ruthless, but he would not harm anyone in such a way."

"So you two weren't ah. . .involved during your stay on the Nemesis?" Ratchet asked.

"No," Optimus said. "Lord Megatron is involved with Soundwave."

He shuddered at the image. If he couldn't remember who he truly was, then why couldn't he purge that memory from his processor also? Entering the archival hub for a shift, only to find Lord Megatron and Soundwave interfacing like petrorabbits in heat. He had been offered the chance to participate, more than once, but refused, only to work out his frustrations in the privacy of his quarters. He'd quickly learned the communal washracks were not the place to do so. But that was beside the point.

"Do you have any more questions for me?" Optimus said.

"Not at the moment," Ratchet said. "I'll get someone to bring you some energon, some reading material, and see about getting you out of here. Maybe something will jog your memory."

"You truly believe I am who you say I am," Optimus said.

"It's the truth," Ratchet said, patting the other mech on the shoulder. "You need anything, comm me."

He stood, and suddenly, his vision swam. His spark fluttered and he felt like he was going to purge, except there was nothing in his tanks to purge. Just his body and sparkling's way of telling him he needed to refuel. Ratchet placed a hand against the wall to steady himself.

Gentle hands grabbed him and helped him sit back down.

"I'm fine," Ratchet said, looking up at Optimus. "Comes with the territory when you're carrying."

Optics widened slightly at that revelation. "You're really sparked?" Optimus asked. "May I ask who is the sire?"

"Ironhide," Ratchet said. "We've been together a long time."

"Congratulations," Optimus said.

"Thank you," Ratchet said, standing again, slower this time. "You seem surprised to hear I'm sparked. Why?"

"I was told many things about the Autobots," Optimus said. "But it seems some of it is turning out to be untrue."

"Try all of it," Ratchet said, venting air in frustration. "I'll see you later. Like I said, if you need anything, comm me."

"I will," Optimus said, watching the medic go.

88888

Ironhide watched Ratchet pace. He could feel the anger and confusion the other mech was experiencing through his energy field.

"I can't find anything wrong with him," Ratchet said. "Physically, he's fine."

"But?"

"I don't know," Ratchet said. "Maybe it has something to do with the Matrix. . .if Kup were here, he could answer my questions about it. There is just so much knowledge we've lost. . ."

Ironhide stood, placing his hand's on the medic's shoulders, touching his helm to Ratchet's. "You'll find out what's wrong, and you'll fix it," he said. "Wheeljack and Perceptor will help. Don't worry about it now. Optimus is back where he belongs. He's safe. Hot Rod is recovering. Your shift is over, and the only thing you need to worry about now is us, and our sparkling."

One hand drifted to Ratchet's chest armor, over his spark.

"I can't wait to meet our bitlet," Ironhide said. "Do you know how long I've waited for this? To find you again?"

"To get me sparked?" Ratchet added.

"That too," Ironhide said, kissing Ratchet, pulling him toward the berth.

Ratchet broke away. "Seriously? You want to interface?"

"Just once," Ironhide said.

"Once is never enough," Ratchet said.

"I'm a mech of my word," Ironhide said, backing the medic up against the wall instead. "Once. Then we can recharge."

He kissed the medic again, one hand holding him against the wall, the other rubbing the panel over his interface array. Ratchet retracted the plating, moaning when he felt Ironhide slide two fingers into his valve, stroking and scissoring him, earning another moan of pleasure. Then the fingers were removed, and replaced by a spike. He wrapped his legs around Ironhide's waist, meeting the other mech's optics for a moment, giving him an evil grin before sinking his denta into Ironhide's shoulder. Ironhide grunted in pain, slamming into him harder than before, and moments later, he felt the medic's overload, Ratchet chanting his name over and over with each contraction of his valve. But Ironhide wasn't done. He gritted his denta, pulling out of the medic, kissing him, then pulling away.

"On your hands and knees," Ironhide said.

"I thought you said just one interface," Ratchet said, arms crossed, optic ridge raised.

"You've overloaded, but I haven't," Ironhide said. "Do as you're told."

Ratchet rolled his optics at Ironhide, but did as requested, sighing in pleasure as his lover's spike entered him once more. Ironhide was gentler this time, strokes slow and deep as he finally overloaded himself, and Ratchet a second time. He pulled out, rolled over onto his back, satisfied. Except Ratchet was sitting up beside him, giving him that look. The one that annoyed him. The one suggesting his processor function wasn't up to par.

"Are you going to sleep on the floor?" Ratchet asked.

"Gimme a minute," Ironhide said.

"Oh, I see. Just old age finally catching up with you, and you need time to recover. Well, I'll leave you to it. Have a nice recharge," Ratchet said.

Ironhide stood, "I'll show you old," he said.

Ratchet smiled. Maybe it was worth losing a little recharge over.


	14. Chapter 14

Exigence

Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod sat up, rubbing his helm, processor sluggish as he came online. Optics adjusted, and he started to stand.

"Oh no you don't," Ratchet said, grabbing him by the shoulder, pushing him back down on the berth. "Hold still."

Scanning the other mech, he looked at the results. "Mostly acceptable parameters," Ratchet said. "The infusion of repair nanites from Springer worked better than anticipated."

"I feel fine," Hot Rod said. "Better than I have in ages, actually. So why can't I go?"

"You'll go when I say you can," Ratchet said. "I'll give you something to do," Ratchet said, handing him a data pad. "You can take inventory of all the supplies in these bins. I'm going to cut you some slack. Just this once. You did bring Optimus back, after all."

Ratchet in a good mood-almost scarier than Ratchet in a bad mood, Hot Rod reflected, staring at the medic.

"I've been reading your file. You passed the basic field medic exam," Ratchet said.

"We lost our medic, and someone needed to know basic repairs, so I was ordered to do it," Hot Rod said. "Ultra Magnus said it was not negotiable. We had Perceptor and First Aid, but he wanted to be prepared in case something happened to either of them."

"Can't say I blame him," Ratchet said. "If you want something to do until you're ready for something like patrol, you can help me out here in the med bay. Don't worry—I'm not going to try and turn you into a medic."

"Thanks," Hot Rod said. "For something to do, I mean."

"You're welcome," Ratchet said, turning back to his screen.

Hot Rod read the data on the pad he'd been given, glancing back at the medic.

"I don't think I need to know about caretaker protocols, or sparkling care," he said.

Ratchet snatched the pad out of his hands. "I was reading that," the medic said. "Even I need a refresher every now and then."

"Ironhide works fast," Hot Rod muttered.

"What?"

"You're sparked, right?" Hot Rod asked, waiting for a response. Ratchet's optics narrowed as he stared at the other mech.

"I am," Ratchet said.

"Wow," Hot Rod said. "Congratulations. I bet 'Hide's happy, isn't he?"

"Ecstatic," Ratchet said.

"Do the others know yet?"

"Miko guessed, Jack, Perceptor and Optimus also know," Ratchet said.

"You told Optimus?" Hot Rod asked.

"I wanted to see his reaction," Ratchet said. "He was surprised."

"Makes me wonder what lies the Decepticons told him about us," Hot Rod said.

"Me, too," Ratchet said. "Which reminds me. I need to go get Optimus and complete his examination. Don't go anywhere."

"Like I'd get far," Hot Rod said.

"Exactly," Ratchet said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Hot Rod looked up when he saw Ratchet returning with Optimus Prime in tow. Ratchet pointed the other mech toward the second medical berth, and he sat down, looking around the hub.

"Lay down," Ratchet said. "This won't take long. I'm running another full-body scan. This one will be more comprehensive than the preliminary I ran last night."

Moments later, Optimus' schematics appeared on the main screen. Ratchet looked them over, deciding it would be better to fully disseminate the information later with Perceptor and Wheeljack.

"I'm done," Ratchet said. "Any questions? Anything you would like to talk about?"

"You said you're carrying—how can that be allowed? I was told the Autobots terminated every femme, youngling and sparkling they could find," Optimus said.

Ratchet met Hot Rod's optics, then turned his gaze on Optimus.

"A lie," Ratchet said. "Megatron had the Decepticons target femmes because he considered them weak, and destroyed younglings and sparklings to further demoralize the Autobots and the remaining neutrals. If you don't believe me, I'll give you access to our archives. Much of the data came from Iacon itself, so you should be able to accept its veracity."

"I would appreciate that very much," Optimus said.

"Don't you need to clear that with Ironhide first?" Hot Rod asked.

"Last time I checked, he wasn't in charge," Ratchet said.

"And you are?" Hot Rod said.

"Youngling, don't challenge my authority," Ratchet said. "Not that it matters, but I'm going to go tell Ironhide right now. Keep an eye on Optimus, will you?"

"Sure," Hot Rod said.

Optimus waited until the medic was gone to speak. "I don't need a babysitter," he said.

"I think Ratch's afraid you're going to bolt back to the Decepticons," Hot Rod said. "If you're considering it, don't. It's a stupid idea, especially after the trouble we went through to get you back."

"None more so than yourself," Optimus said. "I'm gratified to see you're up and about."

"How are you doing?" Hot Rod said.

"Adjusting to these new circumstances," Optimus said. "If I truly am Prime, then that means. . ."

"Everything changes," Hot Rod said. "Kup said it wasn't easy for you when you first became Prime. Too bad he's not here now."

"You know Kup?" Optimus asked.

"Know him? He's why I'm still alive, and the reason I joined the civilian security forces, and became an Autobot," Hot Rod said. "He always used you as the example we should live up to."

"I don't know what to say," Optimus said.

"Good," Hot Rod said. "If you remember Kup, how about I tell you one of his stories?"

Optimus nodded.

"Chaos or the ick-yak? Or something else? You pick," Hot Rod said.

Optimus shrugged.

"I'll tell you the one about Chaos," Hot Rod said. "Or the time he took me to meet Alpha Trion."

He looked at Optimus, waiting. Something in his demeanor changed—the look in his optics, the slight flair in his energy field.

"You told me you met him once," Optimus said.  
"Once was enough," Hot Rod said. "It was right before we left Cybertron. Alpha Trion specifically requested Kup, and he dragged me along because no one else would go. He gave Kup something, said it was important, and he wanted it off Cybertron. He said we'd need it again someday, whatever it was."

"You have no idea what it was?" Optimus said.

"I'm guessing maybe an artifact from the archives," Hot Rod said. "Kup knew what it was, but he never told me, no matter how many times I asked." He didn't tell Optimus the rest, and even Kup didn't know what happened during his own short, private audience with Alpha Trion. He remembered the strange encounter, and what the ancient mech had to say. One day, youngling, all will be revealed when you finally fulfill your destiny. I expect great things from you and your twin. You both have much potential, but it must be forged and tempered. You know of the Legacy of the Primes, correct? Good. Kup has not failed in his attempt to properly educate you. Remember—when all hope seems lost, your faith will guide the way. Youngling, you must go now. Stay strong, both you and your twin.

"Is Kup still alive?"

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "We lost contact with the Xantium, the ship he was on, during our next to last space bridge jump. Our ship, the Aeon, was destroyed when its shields failed when we made planetfall here at Earth."

"Maybe he still lives then," Optimus said.

"I hope so," Hot Rod said.


	15. Chapter 15

Exigence

Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide listened to Wheeljack and Bulkhead bicker. They were discussing the best way to get the materials necessary to convert some of the base's empty rooms into suitable living quarters. The top method, so far, was stealing from the Decepticons. The second and most logical approach would be asking the humans for help getting what they needed. Except Wheeljack was having none of it. Instead, Ironhide let them talk. It beat having to join the conversation himself, and they were getting work done, clearing out old junk they could probably find a use for.

For now, he was fine with doing something mundane, like cleaning and construction. It was normal, something taking his mind off more pressing matters. Now they had Optimus back, they needed him whole. Ironhide's team was working well with Ratchet's, but tempers still flared. The most recent incident that morning (thankfully away from Ratchet, and out on patrol). He'd dealt with it himself when the guilty party returned to base. He knew next time, Tracks wouldn't be so lucky. Arcee promised to rip off his interface array if he didn't back off. He hadn't known there was a problem until the femme told him about it. Tracks' comments about Arcee's gender and the fact she shouldn't be in combat were inappropriate, and the mech had been properly dressed down. Ironhide hoped Blaster gave Tracks his own lecture.

Now that was an interesting pair. The communications specialist and special ops mech were what the humans called "friends with benefits." They worked well together, and had known each other a long time. Maybe Bluestreak would be a better patrol partner for the femme. Or Springer or Hot Rod. He wanted them patrolling in pairs, and Ratchet agreed. At least that was going well. So far, the medic and sparkling were doing fine, and they'd compromised on letting Optimus have access to the archives. He'd locked himself in his quarters, going through data. Someone was going to have to check on him.

Brushing off his hands, Ironhide nodded at Bulkhead and Wheeljack, leaving them to their work. He headed for Optimus' quarters, hitting the chime when he got there. The door slid open, and Ironhide went in, finding Optimus sitting in the dark.

"Are you all right?" Ironhide asked.

"No," Optimus said.

"What is it?" Ironhide said.

"Everything I've been reading. . .I can't believe it, but I know in my spark it's the truth," Optimus said. "Megatron did lie to me. He lied about everything. . .Primus, what a fool I've been. . ."

"Do you want me to get Ratchet?" Ironhide said.

"No," Optimus said. "The medic has more pressing concerns than my stupidity. It's late. I'll be fine. Thank you for your concern."

"I know you don't remember, but I'm your friend, and that's what I'm here for," Ironhide said. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not right now," Optimus said. "Maybe tomorrow. I'd like to get some recharge."

"All right," Ironhide said. "If you need anything, comm me."

He gave the other mech's shoulder a comforting squeeze, then exited his quarters. It was late, and Ratchet was probably still working. Time to go collect his wayward mate.

88888

Optimus Prime waited until the other mech was gone, then lay down, but he knew recharge wouldn't come. He was accustomed to having to watch his back during his rest cycle. Instinctively, he knew he wouldn't have to do the same thing among the Autobots. Something about them made him want to trust them, but he couldn't. Not yet. They said he was one of them. They truly believed it. And now, according to the evidence he'd seen with his own optics, he was one of them. Not just an Autobot, but Prime. Knowing and believing were two different things. Accepting was another matter altogether.

Everything he previously accepted and believed was a lie. He'd trusted Megatron, would've laid down his life for the Decepticon leader, but now, he felt empty and used up. He was walking down the same path for a second time.

How could he change it this time? Could he restore the memories he supposedly lost? He owed it to himself to try. Resolute, Optimus finally drifted into recharge.


	16. Chapter 16

Exigence

Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod watched Ratchet put a scanner back together, knowing he'd have to repeat the process in a few minutes himself when he took it apart. The medic was using Hot Rod's downtime to teach him some more advanced medical techniques "just in case." Hot Rod could tell Ratchet enjoyed having a captive audience. He had to admit Hatchet was a good teacher. Patient, willing to answer his questions, no matter how unimportant it seemed. Not to mention he was in his element when teaching. Except it was hard to concentrate on the medic's words while Ironhide and Agent Fowler were arguing not far away.

"How many times do I have to ask to see Optimus?" Fowler asked.

"He doesn't want to see you," Ironhide said, not adding Optimus didn't want to see much of anyone the past few days, since gaining access to the archive and beginning to accept some of the truth.

"He's on vacation while there are 'Cons that need kicking," Fowler said.

"Do you want to talk to Ratchet?" Ironhide said, looking back over his shoulder at the medic. "Optimus is not on vacation. If you can't take my word for it, Ratchet can explain it, or I can get one of the children or younglings to spell it out with chalk and crayons."

"A few missing memories is nothing if he can fight," Fowler said.

"He's not missing just a few memories," Ironhide said. "He does not remember being Prime. He doesn't remember any of us. Optimus is missing a significant part of his life, everything that made him Optimus."

There. It was out in the open. Didn't make Ironhide feel any better admitting it, but it was true.

"Fine," Fowler said. "I can accept that for now. How is everyone settling in, and have you any word from the other Autobot ship?"

"We've had a few. . .complications, but nothing we can't handle," Ironhide said, once again looking over at Ractchet, who glared back. Ironhide smiled sweetly back at the medic, straightening his face when looking back at the human. "And nothing from the Xantium."

"I'm sorry," Fowler said. "Where's Perceptor? He sent me a couple of emails, and I want to discuss them."

"He's with Wheeljack, trying to pick out a suitable lab space," Ironhide said.

"You're not going to let them have a lab here, in the base, are you? Not after the stories Ratchet and the others told me about those two. . ." Fowler said. "There are a couple of more missile silos not far from here, one of those would be suitable. Shielded, safe, far from human habitation and your main base. It could be used as a satellite base to this one. Give you a little more room to branch out. . .hmm. . .this actually isn't a bad idea. Let me talk with Perceptor about what he needs, and I'll see what I can do to procure whatever you guys need."

"I'll go get Perceptor," Ironhide said, leaving the human alone. Walking past the med area, he grabbed Ratchet, pulling him along with him.

"What?" Ratchet said, extricating his arm from Ironhide's grip.

"Fowler is wanting to see Optimus again," Ironhide said.

"Fat chance," Ratchet said.

"Exactly," Ironhide said. "He's been in his quarters two days now. Isn't that unhealthy?"

One one hand, it was. On the other, Ratchet could understand Optimus' need to isolate himself in order to deal with and accept his new circumstances. Or he could be moping. Either way, he did need to rejoin the living.

"He does need to come out," Ratchet said.

"I'll take care of it," Ironhide said. "I need to go get Perceptor first."

"Have fun," Ratchet said, heading back toward the hub.

88888

With Perceptor, Ratchet and Fowler arguing over base designs on the main screen, Ironhide decided it was time to go have a talk with Optimus. The door to his quarters was locked, so Ironhide keyed in his command override, and the door slid open, revealing a darkened room.

"Lights," he said, striding inside and over to the berth, where Optimus was now sitting up.

"What's the matter?" Optimus asked.

"You," Ironhide said. "You might not remember, but you're still an Autobot, and there's plenty for you to do. Megatron lied, you can't remember, everything is upside down and sideways, but deal with it. There's a war going on, and you're going to have to pick a side. I hope it's the right one, but for now, you're coming with me."

Grabbing the other mech by the arm, he pulled him out of his quarters, down the corridor and into the hub.

"Ratchet will find something for you to do," Ironhide said. "Or you can keep Hot Rod company while he works. I know you probably think we're forcing you into something, but. . .I don't know. Maybe I am. . .I'm not going to baby you. I never have. We need every able-bodied bot we can get, and there's not a thing wrong with you physically, so vacation's over."

He shoved his Prime toward Hot Rod and Ratchet, not sticking around to watch.

"I see Ironhide was insistent enough to get you to leave your quarters," Ratchet said.

Optimus frowned. "He removed me from them," he said.

"He's always had your best interests at spark," Ratchet said.

Hot Rod snorted, but Ratchet ignored it. "You can help Hot Rod clean the med bay," the medic said. "It'll give you a chance to start familiarizing yourself with where everything is. And if you want to go back to your quarters when the others return from patrol or school, I understand. Optimus, I know you probably can't deal with everyone expecting you to be the same mech you were before. I can buy you a little time and space, but not much."

He clapped his Prime on the shoulder. "Hot Rod, keep an eye on him for me," Ratchet said. "I'm going to get some energon."

Hot Rod tossed Optimus handful of clean cloths. "Might as well get started," he said.

They worked in silence for a while, until Hot Rod stopped working, instead watching his twin with Bluestreak. The jackass was groping the other mech's aft right in front of Fowler, except at the moment, the human had his back turned, still talking with Perceptor. Hot Rod grabbed a spanner, launching it at his brother's head. The resounding clang from the impact made everyone in the hub look Springer's way. Rubbing his helm, he shot his twin a dirty look, opening the bond between them.

What in the Pit was that for? Springer demanded.

Getting frisky in front of the human, Hot Rod retorted.

I don't care about one squishee's backward sensibilities, Springer said.

That's the problem-we don't know if this human has those hang-ups, Hot Rod said.

Well, maybe someone needs to talk to him, Springer said.

It'll happen probably sooner than you think, Hot Rod said.

What's that supposed to mean? Springer asked.

You'll find out, Hot Rod said.

You know something I don't? Springer said.

Spring, shut up.

"Why did you throw that wrench at your brother?" Optimus asked.

Here we go again, Hot Rod thought.

"Some of the humans have some difficulties in accepting same-gender relationships," Hot Rod said. "I was reminding Spring of that."

"He and the gunner seem quite close," Optimus said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said.

"If the humans take issue with same-gender pairings, what will they do when they find out Cybertronian mechs can carry also?" Optimus asked, making that leap.

"We'll get to find out pretty soon," Hot Rod said.

88888

Several days of hiding out, getting by on scrapings of unrefined energon from the abandoned mines, watching their backs every single moment. Lack of energon and recharge and worrying about his mate was catching up with Knock Out. He'd taken to leaving Breakdown in well-lit areas around the human settlement when he would go scavenge. He figured Breakdown would be safer that way. Being parked in the lot of a human retail establishment meant less chance of an attack from their former comrades.

And they were lucky Breakdown could still transform. Not quite half-way through his gestation, he would have only a few more weeks before transformation would be uncomfortable, then impossible. The growing protoform was healthy from what Knock Out could tell, and what Breakdown would share with him. It would not stay that way for long if Breakdown didn't get the energon and additives he needed. That left only one option-one he'd been considering since his mate was sparked. Megatron's threats and being on their own made his idea look more attractive everyday. The safety of his mate and their sparkling really left him with no other choice. Well, that and it would spite Megatron to no end. Except he wouldn't have to know. His mind made up, Knock Out sent a coded message to the Autobots, praying to Primus it worked.


	17. Chapter 17

Exigence

Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Tracks hated monitor duty. His talents were wasted on something so mundane. Patrol wasn't much better, but at least he had a chance of finding a Decepticon to fight. Monitor duty, this time, however, was punishment for his comments to the femme, Arcee. Unfortunately, what he wanted say, how it came out and how it was interpreted by the femme was a big misunderstanding. Also, at the time Arcee was threatening him, and Ironhide was holding her off, wasn't the ideal moment to try and explain himself. What he meant say was he couldn't believe Optimus Prime and the others would let such a small-framed femme fight, when femmes were a rarity now. Not that he'd wanted to imply Arcee's only value now was as a carrier. She was a warrior, and he admired her fighting spirit, and her beauty. He owed her an apology if he could get close enough to let her know that. Even Blaster let him have it after Ironhide was done with him, but he managed explaining what he really wanted to say. Blaster wasn't so upset with him now, thank Primus.

The two mechs now had a mutual interest to discuss, just needed to find the time to do it and damn, why was an alarm going off now? 0220. Not an Autobot frequency. A coded message. From a Decepticon? For Hot Rod? What in the Pit? Tracks commed Ironhide, waiting until the big black mech showed a few moments later.

He watched Ironhide shake Hot Rod out of recharge from his berth in the med bay, and dragged him over to the main screen.

"Want to tell my why you're receiving coded messages from Decepticons?" Ironhide asked.

"It's the first time it's happened," Hot Rod said. "Are you going to let me see it or not?"

"Be my guest," Ironhide said.

Hot Rod decrypted the message, scanning it quickly. "Autobot, I helped you. It's time to return the favor. Breakdown and I request amnesty from your faction. I want to meet in person to discuss it. Coordinates will follow. Knock Out."

A quick check of the coordinates showed it was in a wrecking yard just outside of Jasper.

"A junk yard?" Tracks asked. "What kind of joke is this?"

"I don't know," Ironhide said. "It could be a trap."

"I'm going," Hot Rod said, transforming and taking off before the other two could stop him.

88888

Knock Out waited, but he was jumpy, and the sound of an engine getting louder as it got closer nearly made him run. He nearly onlined his weapons as the red Challenger pulled close, but relaxed a little when he saw the Autobot symbol on the grill. It transformed, and Knock Out relaxed even more when he saw it was Hot Rod.

"Glad you could make it, Autobot," Knock Out said.

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "What is it you really want?"

"Fine. I'll cut to the chase," Knock Out said. "I want amnesty for myself and Breakdown, just like the message said. Megatron found out my involvement in your escape, and threatened Breakdown, an unfortunate turn of events that made me reexamine my desire to remain with the Decepticons."

"So he threatened Breakdown. What's that got to do with anything?"

"Breakdown is carrying, and Megatron threatened to rip out the sparkling," Knock Out said. "Is that reason enough for you?"

It was. Hot Rod commed Ironhide, asking for a ground bridge. No point in just driving them back to the base. He was in enough trouble already.

88888

Ironhide frowned when Hot Rod walked through the bridge portal, annoyance turning to alarm when he saw Knock Out and Breakdown behind him, the bigger mech leaning on the smaller Decepticon for support. Onlining his weapons, Ironhide didn't take his optics off the two enemy mechs.

"Ironhide, stow it," Hot Rod said. "They're not a threat. Breakdown is carrying. He needs a medic."

"I'm a medic," Knock Out said. "Where's your med bay?"

Hot Rod pointed to the medical area of the hub, and Knock Out walked Breakdown over to a berth.

"You're going to need a medic when Ratchet is done with you," Ironhide said to Hot Rod as he helped ease the big Decepticon onto a berth. "You left against my orders, and without medical clearance. You brought Decepticons back to our base. Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in? You're far too trusting sometimes. . ."

He stopped when he was smacked up the side of his helm by Ratchet.

"I don't care, and neither should you right now," Ratchet said. "A carrier needs our help. Hot Rod did the right thing, at least in that respect. We'll deal with the rest later. Now move your big black aft so I can work."

Ironhide moved out of the way, letting Ratchet examine Breakdown, dragging Hot Rod with him.

"You are in trouble," Ironhide said.

"Don't go all Magnus on me," Hot Rod said. "Knock Out's the reason why I got Optimus off the Nemesis. They deserve a chance."

"Youngling, do you know how close you are to insubordination?"

"Yeah, and I don't care," Hot Rod said, walking away.

Ironhide watched him go, fuming, but turned his attention to Ratchet and Knock Out, who were arguing.

"I'll scan my own mate," Knock Out said. "Your equipment is sub-standard. . ."

Ratchet smacked the Decepticon with a wrench. "Shut up and sit down," he said. "You are in my med bay. Breakdown will not be harmed. None of us would hurt a carrier, or sparkling. If you believed that, you wouldn't be here, and you're not going to help Breakdown by hovering. He needs an infusion of energon and additives, that's all. And some recharge. You could also benefit from some energon. I'll have Ironhide bring you some. Breakdown is approximately 11 weeks into his gestation, correct?"

Knock Out nodded in affirmation, staring at the floor.

"Would you like to know the gender of your sparkling?" Ratchet asked.

Knock Out's head snapped up. "You can tell with your equipment? My med bay on the Nemesis wasn't so well-stocked," he said.

"Do you want to know or not?" Ratchet asked.

"Breakie, do you want to know if it's a mech or femme?" Knock Out said.

"I would like to know," Breakdown said.

"It's a femme," Ratchet said, placing a hand on Knock Out's shoulder. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Knock Out said, sitting down on the berth beside Breakdown.

"Get some rest. One of us will get bring you your energon later," Ratchet said. He watched Knock Out curl himself around his bigger mate, waiting until they dropped into recharge to leave.


	18. Chapter 18

Exigence

Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod didn't want to bother Springer. His brother was recharging with Bluestreak in Bulkhead's quarters. The big green mech and Wheeljack were on night patrol, and Springer and Bluestreak would go on patrol once they returned. Too many bodies and not enough quarters. He figured the femme, Arcee, wouldn't want to be bothered, so he made for the quarters of the one bot he hoped wouldn't turn him out—Optimus Prime.

Hitting the chime, he waited, and was gratified when the door slid open.

Optimus let him in, surprised.

"Sorry," Hot Rod said. "Just needed somewhere to go for a while. I fragged off Ironhide. I don't suppose you remember if the base has a brig, because if it does, I think I'll be spending a lot of time there in the near future."

Optimus raised one optic ridge in exasperation. "One would think you'd seen the inside of enough brigs recently with your stay on the Nemesis," he said.

"Autobot brigs have much nicer accommodations than anything the Decepticons have," Hot Rod said.

"I take it you've seen the inside of a brig more than once?" Optimus asked.

"I've been a guest of the Decepticons several times," Hot Rod said. "In Kaon. Also the main Autobot detention center in Iacon, but that was part of my training when I joined the civilian defense forces. They never thought I'd make Enforcer, but I did, barely. I don't think anyone expected me to actually escape from Iacon. Maybe Kup, but that's a story for another time. . ."

He trailed off, hoping he wasn't boring the other mech, but Optimus' expression was a mixture of disbelief and interest.

"You broke out of the Iaconian detention center?"

"Yeah," Hot Rod said. "It was right before they closed it down and started sending all the really dangerous detainees off-world to Garrus-9. But I don't suppose you remember that?"

"No," Optimus said.

"Springer, Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker and I once broke into one of the Kaon prisons to rescue Kup," Hot Rod said. "Ultra Magnus was not happy. Ironhide was annoyed, but he was relieved we all came back alive."

"Kaon was a dangerous place to begin with," Optimus said.

"Even more so at the end," Hot Rod said.

"Unfortunately, the war is far from over," Optimus said. "If I believe everything I've seen and heard. And no matter how hard I try, I don't remember. I don't know if I'll ever regain the memories I lost. I can only move forward."

"Does that mean you've decided to rejoin the Autobots?" Hot Rod asked.

"Yes," Optimus said.

88888

Hot Rod walked into the hub with Springer and Bluestreak, making small talk, but they stopped in their tracks, hearing the commotion in the command center.

The medics stood nose to nose, yelling at one another.

"Sadist," Knock Out said.

"Butcher," Ratchet retorted.

A glance passed between Ironhide and Breakdown. Ironhide nodded at the Decepticon, heading toward Ratchet, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him away from Knock Out. Breakdown did the same, trying to console his mate. Then Wheeljack and Bulkhead drove in, transforming, returning from their patrol.

Bulkhead stopped in his tracks, seeing Breakdown sitting on a medical berth, Knock Out beside him, arms crossed, sulking.

"What is going on?" Bulkhead asked.

Ratchet shot the big mech a dirty look, but Ironhide ignored it.

"Later," he said. "Go get some rest."

Bulkhead glanced at Wheeljack, who only shrugged. One crisis averted for the moment, Ironhide thought, but Knock Out was eyeing Ratchet again, looking thoughtful. Ironhide watched as Knock Out unsubspaced a data pad, handing it to Ratchet.

"I didn't come empty-handed," Knock Out said. "You'll find coordinates for untapped energon sources, and the locations of Iaconian artifacts here on Earth. Megatron had your leader scouring the archives for them. I figure they're better off in Autobot hands than with Megatron. But that's not all the information I have. I think I might be able to help you with your leader's amnesia."

Ratchet hmphed. "What makes you think you can help? I've run every test imaginable, and there is nothing wrong with him. I've pored over his schematics with Perceptor and Wheeljack and we can find nothing. Not a thing."

"Maybe it's not him," Knock Out said. "He bears the Matrix of Leadership, does he not?"

"Yes," Ratchet said.

"It's empty," Knock Out said. "There's nothing in it-well, there is a crystal fragment giving off a faint pulse. It's very, very weak. I'm guessing maybe that's the problem. The Matrix is dead."

Ratchet gaped at the Decepticon.

"And how did you come up with the idea to test this theory?"

"I overheard Megatron say more than once he attributed your Prime's memory loss to the purging of the Matrix when he used it to destroy Unicron. Problem solved," Knock Out said.

"But how do we fix it?" Ratchet asked.

Knock Out shrugged. "Not my problem," he said.

Ratchet smacked the Decepticon's helm. "It is our collective problem now that you're here," he said. "Anything else you'd like to share?"

"Well, I can tell you the Matrix is integrated into your Prime's spark chamber, but it gives off a separate resonance. As I said, it is very, very, very faint right now," Knock Out said. "Is that good enough for you?"

"Integrated?"

"A part of his anatomy, yet separate from his spark," Knock Out said. "Possibly when he purged the Matrix, he lost a part of himself, since the artifact is a part of him."

"I don't believe I'm having this discussion," Ratchet said.

"Believe it or not, doesn't it make more sense than anything you've come up with?" Knock Out said.

"It does," Ratchet said. "But how did you figure all of this out?"

"Megatron made me run extensive scans of your leader," Knock Out said. "He was trying to figure out how to remove the Matrix and claim it for himself."

"It doesn't work that way," Ratchet said. "It chooses its bearer, and it rejected Megatron once."

"He won't accept that," Knock Out said.

"He's never accepted rejection well at all," Ratchet said. "You've give me much to think about."

88888

The base was quiet most of the day. Routine patrol, the children arriving from school, followed by Fowler's own arrival at Ironhide's behest. Ratchet steeled himself for the coming discussion. They were going to come clean, finally, about his condition, to everyone, as well as inform Fowler about the base's two new Decepticon additions and the intelligence they provided, and the future data they promised to share. The human was currently on the phone, pacing, talking in hushed tones, but Ratchet could hear everything. Fowler was telling off a human subordinate, and could they please call him when it was actually warranted interruption because he was in the middle of an important meeting.

Middle my aft, Ratchet thought, when it hadn't even begun. Preliminaries had, of a sort. Disturbingly, Miko was sitting on the couch, handing out snacks from her backpack to Jack and Raf. Not a good sign. She was treating the occasion like it was a spectator event. Maybe it was. Humans were strange, after all. And finally, Fowler was shutting off his phone, and facing Ratchet.

"What's going on?" Fowler asked. "I know it's got to be important if you asked me to come back."

"It is," Ratchet said, looking back over his shoulder as Ironhide approached, to lend backup and moral support. "We currently have two Decepticons here at the base. They've defected, and provided valuable intelligence data that will significantly increase our ability to fight more efficiently and possibly gain the upper hand."

"Which two Decepticons and what kind of intelligence?" he asked.

"Untapped energon sources and weapons," Ratchet said. "The defectors are Knock Out and Breakdown."

"What? Are you sure this isn't some Decepticon trick?" Fowler said.

"I can assure you this is no trick," Ironhide said, jumping in. "You can ask Hot Rod. He was the one they contacted, and none of us will turn them out because of a difference in ideology, especially considering Breakdown's condition."

"Condition? What condition? The damage MECH did?" Fowler said. "What am I supposed to tell my superiors?"

"The truth," Ratchet said. "Or some version that will placate them. Agent Fowler, Optimus and I decided when we first initiated contact with humanity, based on the sensitivity of this information and your species' tendency to overreact, it was best kept from you. However, recent events have forced me to reassess that choice."

"That still doesn't explain why you've got two Decepticons running loose," Fowler said.

"It does," Ratchet said. "Breakdown is sparked, and so am I."

Fowler thought it over. He'd heard the word before. Then it hit him. Sparked. Like the Allspark. Where new Cybertronians came from.

"You mean you're. . ."

"Carrying a protoform which will emerge in about four months," Ratchet said. "Breakdown's gestation is farther along than my own. He will have his sparkling in around 10 weeks."

"But how is that possible. . ." the human stammered

"Optimus believed the caste system developed out of the use of the Allspark to procreate instead of natural means," Ratchet said. "Femmes of course, can carry, but so can mechs."

"Male Cybertronians can get pregnant," Fowler said. "You're pregnant. I think I need to sit down. . ."

The children scooted down to make room for Fowler on the couch. He loosened his tie, unbuttoning the two top buttons of his shirt. He needed air. And something to drink. Preferably something alcoholic. But it could wait until he was on a civilian flight back to DC. Ratchet. . .pregnant. With a little Ratchet. What, did they bud off or something? If not, who was the father? Both good questions, but it didn't explain why the Decepticons were there.

"What does Breakdown being pregnant have to do with anything?" Fowler said.

"Megatron threatened to rip Breakdown's sparkling from his body," Ratchet said. "I can tell you from experience it was not an empty threat. I've witnessed him do it myself."

That explained that, Fowler thought, watching Ironhide place a hand on Ratchet's shoulder, noticing how the big, black mech was hovering. Oh gods help us. Ratchet's baby daddy is Ironhide.

He swallowed, trying to retain his professional demeanor.

"Huh. Well. Don't know how I'm gonna tell my superiors that one. Guess I'll keep it on a need to know basis for now," Fowler said. "Let me know if you need anything."

They watched as he got into his car and drove away.

"That went well," Ironhide said.

"You have no idea," Ratchet said. "Miko, now you can ask me questions about my sparkling."

The girl grinned. She was finally going to get answers.


	19. Chapter 19

Exigence

Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Monitor duty. Could be worse, Hot Rod mused. Ironhide promised they would have a talk when he returned. Fowler was gone, the children were playing video games with Bumblebee and Bluestreak. Everyone knew about Ractchet's condition and the addition of the two Decepticons and Breakdown was carrying. There was talk of having a small celebration at the end of the week, but Ratchet and Ironhide hadn't said yes. Yet. And Springer was watching him while he watched monitors. Keeping him company, sort of. His twin leaned back against the railing, arms crossed.

"Where were you last night?"

"Up talking with Optimus," Hot Rod said. "Well, mainly answering questions for him and talking about Iacon."

"That's how you avoided Ironhide after your little stunt?" Springer asked.

"What was I supposed to do—leave them to Megatron's mercy? Knock Out helped us get off the Nemesis, and Breakdown is carrying," Hot Rod said.

"You nearly died getting off the Nemesis, and they're both still Decepticons," Springer said. "And for all we know, Prime still is, too. Rodi, you're getting a bit too chummy with the enemy for my liking."

"Optimus is not the enemy," Hot Rod snapped, turning around, facing his twin.

"You're too trusting," Springer said. "Amnesia—that's a little too convenient if you ask me. . ."

"You haven't talked to him—you don't know what you're saying," Hot Rod said.

"I know you bought into those fairy tales about the Dynasty of the Primes way too much back in the day," Springer said. "I can understand how Kup still believes that crap—he lived some of it , but you. . .Rodi, they're only stories. This Prime is just as corrupt as the rest. . ."

CRACK. Springer found himself on his back, staring up at the ceiling, seeing stars, Hot Rod standing over him, fist balled. That was how Ironhide found them when he returned with Optimus.

"What in the name of Primus is going on?" Ironhide said, watching Springer trying to sit up, and Hot Rod backing away.

"I was just running my mouth again," Springer said, trying to keep it just between them. Ironhide did not need to get involved.

"Enough to make your own twin strike you? You never did know when to keep your mouth shut," Ironhide said. "You're coming with me. Hot Rod, would you mind giving Optimus a quick scan? We were sparring, Ratchet doesn't need to know. I'll talk with you after I'm finished with your brother."

88888

Ironhide dragged Springer back into the bowels of the base, into one of the empty rooms where they could talk in private. Or where Ironhide could raise his voice or pound him into scrap and no one would hear, Springer thought.

"I thought you two were past this stupid juvenile behavior," Ironhide said. "I don't need you two at each other's throats. You know he's volatile—he's gotten better, but what did you say to set him off?"

"Just talking about Prime. . .the stories Kup used to tell us, that it's all just that—stories," Springer said.

"You used to believe those stories, too," Ironhide said.

"Yeah, but I grew up," Springer said.

"You just choose to deny what you know to be true," Ironhide said.

"I believe Ultra Magnus is going to be in charge once he gets here, and that's the end of it," Springer said. "You know it, too. Prime's in no shape to lead. There hasn't been a decent Prime in ages. . ."

He felt the flare in Ironhide's energy field, and noted the look in his optics. Both more than suggested he'd better shut up while he still could.

"That is one of my oldest and dearest friends you're talking about," Ironhide said. "And your Prime. Do not forget that. Keep your damn opinions to yourself until you know what you're talking about. None of us know what really happened to Optimus, and he deserves the benefit of the doubt. Regardless of whether he has his memories or not, he is the Matrix bearer, the leader of the Autobot forces and your Prime. You will treat him with the respect he deserves. If not the mech, then the title. Do you understand?"

Springer nodded.

"Good. Get out of my sight," Ironhide said.

88888

Hot Rod picked up small scanner, waiting as it did its job, beeping when it was finished. He looked at the results, setting the scanner down.

"I think Ironhide went easy on you," Hot Rod said. "A few scratches and a couple of dents, that's it."

"That was easy?" Optimus said.

"What did he do?" Hot Rod asked.

"Transformed, onlined his weapons and told me to run," Optimus said. "So I did."

"Not easy," Hot Rod said. "I'd say you passed muster if he didn't touch you with those cannons."

"Is he always that enthusiastic with his weapons?" Optimus said.

"Unfortunately, yes," Hot Rod said. "But that's what makes him one of our heaviest hitters, and it's why Springer and I were transferred to his unit. We're willing to do the things no one else would do. Maybe once the Xantium gets here we can go back to being in Kup's unit. It's not that I don't like serving under Ironhide, but. . ."

He trailed off, seeing Ironhide.

"Maybe you'll get your own unit," Ironhide said. "You and Springer both. C'mon youngling, we need to have that talk."

Hot Rod stood, following Ironhide back to the same room where he'd just finished with Springer.

Ironhide considered the young mech in front of him. Volatile, cocky, rash. But he was also tenacious, loyal and brave. Except he had the annoying habit of ignoring orders.

"You did do the right thing with Breakdown and Knock Out," Ironhide said. "But your execution leaves something to be desired. You can't go off half-cocked and on your own. It'll get you killed, and Springer, too. I know we've had our differences, but I can't afford to lose you two. Are we good?"

"You're not going to punish me?"

"I'll come up with something," Ironhide said. "Or I'll just leave it to Ratchet."

"Great," Hot Rod said.

Ironhide smiled. "Leave him to me," he said. "How do you feel about patrol with Optimus? I'm trusting you with this and no one else. He needs to get out of here. You're obviously ready for a return to active duty after what you pulled yesterday, and you don't seem to have a problem with Optimus' memory gaps."

"He's still Prime," Hot Rod said.

"I'm glad you feel that way," Ironhide said. Now all he had to do was break it to Ratchet. And the medic did not take the news well.

"Are you out of your mind?" Ratchet said.

"Ratchet, we need him whole. We need him to be Prime," Ironhide said.

"I can't fix him," Ratchet said. "There is nothing wrong with him. It's the Matrix, like Knock Out said. . ."

"What can we do?" Ironhide asked.

"I don't know," Ratchet said.

"Optimus wants to do something," Ironhide said. "He won't do monitor duty, patrol is the next step. Hot Rod knows what's at stake. We talked."

"I'd say yes it if was anyone but Hot Rod," Ratchet said. "Like you."

"I trust Hot Rod. Optimus trusts him," Ironhide said. "They've managed to forge some kind of bond over their shared experiences, so Hot Rod it is."

"Your decision is final?"

"Yes," Ironhide said. "I'd much rather talk about something more personal. Have you started to consider any names for the sparkling?"

"I've thought of a few," Ratchet said.

"Are you willing to share?"

"Not yet," Ratchet said.

88888

Middle of the afternoon. Ratchet was on monitor duty while Knock Out made himself familiar with the med bay. Ratchet didn't like the idea, but it was logical to let the other medic have some duties. So far, Knock Out was keeping his mouth shut and that was a good thing. Breakdown was sitting with him, reading a data pad on sparkling care, and Bulkhead was hovering near both mechs, watching, like he wanted to say something. But he didn't get the chance because an alarm started sounding the instant sensors picked up an anomaly in the planet's atmosphere.

Ratchet hit a few keys. Not an anomaly—an Autobot ship. Coming in fast over the northern Rockies. In Canada.

"Bulkhead, Knock Out, I'm bridging you to the area where that ship is coming down," Ratchet said. "I'll see who I can round up to send as backup."

Knock Out transformed, following Bulkhead into the portal, finding himself in a forested area moments later. Then the ship came screaming overhead, hitting the ground in a ball of fire. Following Bulkhead, he heard another portal open behind them, but didn't look back to see who it was. Could be Decepticons for all he knew. But it wasn't. He'd be dead if it was.

Bulkhead, despite his lack of speed, made the wreckage first. It was an Autobot shuttle. Hot Rod was hot on his heels, shoving Knock Out out of his way as he punched his way into the command center. Not one of the Xantium's, he thought. But that didn't matter. He onlined his rotary saw, cutting into the ship's metal, cutting a hole big enough to fit through. He jumped down, Optimus and Knock Out following while Bulkhead stood outside, weapons ready.

There were three mechs in the chairs in the command center, no other life signs. But these were all weak. Hot Rod made his way to the mech in the pilot's chair. The bot was slumped over, and he pulled the body back, hoping he was wrong. But he wasn't. It was Kup. Barely alive. He looked at the other two—Blurr and Red Alert. What the hell were they doing there?  
He pushed it from his mind, screaming for Knock Out to get his aft down and comming Ratchet for a groundbridge.


	20. Chapter 20

Exigence

Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet had the med bay ready, waiting to accept patients, but nothing prepared him for the sight coming through the bridge portal. Hot Rod and Optimus Prime carrying Kup between them, Bulkhead half-dragging, half-carrying a body that looked like Red Alert and a blue mech that did not look familiar following behind, helped along by Knock Out.

"The ancient one is the worst," Knock Out said, nodding his head in Kup's direction. "The blue one is damaged, but it can wait. The red and white one. . .he had to be incapacitated when he started screaming about being attacked by Decepticons."

"You can help me with Kup," Ratchet said. "So can Wheeljack. I'll get Bluestreak and he can stay with Red Alert. Let's get to work."

He turned, ready to start saving Kup, but Ironhide's hand on his shoulder stopped him for only a moment.

"I'm taking Optimus and some of the others back to the crash site to see what we can salvage," Ironhide said.

Ratchet nodded, stepping toward the medical berth occupied by Kup, but the unfamiliar blue mech was in his way.

“IsKupgoingtobeallrightbecauseyouhavenoideawhatwewenthroughtogetherehesaiditwasimportantandsowecameandwecrashedandbythewayimBlurrwhatisyourname. . .”

"Shut up and get out of my way," Ratchet told the blue mech. He stepped out of the medic's way, a blur as he did so. Then he hit the ground as his leg gave out. Hot Rod helped the blue mech off the floor, getting him out of the med bay, locking optics with Springer as he followed Bluestreak to Red Alert's side.

"He's alive," Hot Rod said. "We had to offline him when he saw Knock Out and started screaming about traitors and Decepticons."

"Figures," Springer muttered, but Hot Rod silenced him with a look. He was also trying to ignore the look Blurr was giving him. The hopeful look. Damn it. But it was interrupted when Red Alert's optics onlined. He sat up, shuttering his optics, almost jumping off the berth when Bluestreak touched him on the shoulder.

"Bluestreak. . .is it really you? We thought the Aeon was dead. . ."

"It is," Bluestreak said. "We lost the ship when it crashed—burned up in the atmosphere actually. They bridged us here."

"It's really you, not some Decepticon trick?" Red Alert asked.

"It's me," Bluestreak said, sitting down by the other mech. "Everybody made it off the Aeon. And you're not going to believe who else is here—Optimus and Ratchet."

"That's good to know," Red Alert said.

"What are you doing here? How. . ." Bluestreak asked.

"Kup can tell you," Red Alert said. "His idea."

"But. . ."

"Blue, trust me" Red Alert said, shutting his mouth, settling back on the berth and offlining his optics.

Springer frowned, meeting his twin's gaze. Hot Rod shrugged as best he could, considering he was supporting Blurr's weight.

“WhysBluestreaksoconcernedaboutRedAlertwhentheybarelysaidtwowordstoeachotherontheXantium,” Blurr asked. 

"Slow down," Hot Rod said, looking at Springer. "Think we should tell him?"

Springer looked at Bluestreak.

"I don't care," Bluestreak said.

It was classified information, but something Hot Rod only knew because Bluestreak told Springer, who in turn shared it with his twin. Bluestreak broke many rules by telling them, but he figured they were in a position where they could understand.

"Red Alert is Prowl's twin, and Bluestreak's older brother," Hot Rod said, leaving it at that. There was much more to it, but Blurr didn't need to know. Red Alert had been an Enforcer, like his twin, but he specialized in undercover operations. His frame had been heavily modded to disguise his Praxian heritage. Toward the end of the war he'd been working undercover in Kaon, his cover blown, tortured and he'd nearly died. The incident resulted in a processor glitch becoming a psychosis. His inborn paranoia became full-blown, he was pulled from active duty and assigned to Ultra Magnus as an assistant, something he could handle. And then Blurr was talking again and he didn't want to listen because he wanted to be near Kup but it wasn't a good idea. He lowered Blurr down onto the berth, so he was sitting beside Bluestreak. He'd stand watch. It was all he could do.

88888

Blaster was pulling the memory core from the shuttle and every bit of computer components still intact. Bulkhead and Breakdown were removing the energon stores from the hold and Tracks and Bumblebee had the weapons stripped. Optimus was outside with Arcee, standing guard. It wasn't a matter of if but when the Decepticons showed up.

Ironhide was outside checking on Optimus when a groundbridge appeared. And it was not theirs. Onlining his weapons as Megatron walked through the portal, Ironhide stepped up beside Optimus, but the Decepticon leader ignored him.

"Orion. How nice to see you again," he said.

Optimus' battle mask snapped into place, optics narrowing.

"What, nothing to say to your old friend?" Megatron said.

"I have nothing to say to you," Optimus said. "Liar. Betrayer."

"Strong language for one who doesn't know what he's talking about," Megatron said. "If I remember correctly, you betrayed me when you assumed the mantle of Prime, and took what was rightfully mine—the Matrix of Leadership. If you won't give it to me, I'll take it."

Megatron fired at Optimus, Ironhide stood his ground, firing back as Optimus ducked and rolled out of the way. Vehicons joined the fight, and Ironhide lost track of Optimus and Arcee as he was swarmed.

Optimus found himself cornered, back against the shuttle as Megatron advanced. He didn't fire, instead choosing a more physical attack, gouging his claws into Optimus' battle mask and then the armor of his chest.

Screaming in rage, Optimus struggled to throw off the Decepticon. Instead, his arms transformed into blades, and he hacked and slashed at the Decepticon leader. Megatron pulled away, and suddenly found himself flat on his back as Optimus hammered away at him.

"You lied to me," Optimus said, pinning Megatron with one knee in his throat, and both blades pointed at his head.

"You have only yourself to blame—for being so naive and trusting again," Megatron said.

"You've abused my trust and good will for the last time," Optimus said.

"Prove it," Megatron said.

He raised his blades for the killing blow, but it did not fall.

Instead, Optimus heard Ironhide yelling about burning something, then a flash of heat and light he was flung away from Megatron. Seconds later he was being picked up off the ground and dragged through a bridge portal, then nothing.

88888

Ratchet lay in his berth, spooned up against Ironhide, enjoying the warmth of the other mech's frame. They needed to talk, and Ironhide knew it. They also needed rest, none so more than Ratchet. Racing to save Kup, then having to patch up Optimus and Arcee when they returned, and also his errant mate. Optimus was recharging in his quarters, Arcee in her own, with Blaster keeping an eye on the femme. He'd kicked Springer, Hot Rod and Tracks off the base for a few hours, making them go on patrol. Knock Out and Breakdown were settled in their make-shift quarters. Bluestreak was sitting with his brother and Blurr, and Perceptor was keeping watch over Kup, who was lucky to be alive.

Everyone accounted for, and they were still functioning. They'd gotten lucky one more time. Ratchet wondered when it would run out, and pondered that since Ironhide's arrival, his workload had more than doubled. So much for his luck. He'd finish thinking about it later. Ironhide needed to be reminded who was in charge.

"You took Breakdown with you," Ratchet said. "That was not a good idea. You put a carrying mech in harm's way."

"He helped Bulkhead move the energon," Ironhide said. "It wasn't that strenuous. They got all of it moved. Quite a haul, actually. The weapons will come in handy, as well as the cloak and shield systems."

"A ship that small had a cloak?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes," Ironhide said, changing the subject. "Fairly advanced, too. Wheeljack is already asking for permission to create a bigger one. We could cloak the base."

"The humans will want that technology," Ratchet said. "You know they can't have it."

"I know the Tyrest Accords as well as you," Ironhide said. "We'll leave it to Ultra Magnus when he gets here."

Ratchet ignored the comment. "What are we going to do with Red Alert?"

"He can make the base more secure," Ironhide said.

"Our security is fine," Ratchet said.

"Red's been doing fine for quite a while now," Ironhide said.

"You weren't here when he onlined screaming about Decepticon impostors. He fired weapons. In my med bay. At his own baby brother. And you think he's stable enough for duty?"

"I'll accept whatever you decide," Ironhide said. "Won't you give him a full examination?"

"If he'll let me," Ratchet said.

"What about Blurr?"

"His leg is going to need some extensive repairs. It's going to take Wheeljack and I to fix it," Ratchet said. "Do you know how extensive his modifications are? Where in the universe did you find him?"

"Velocitron," Ironhide said. "They're all like that—they live for speed. Hot Rod almost stayed, but Blurr decided to come with us instead. They're fairly close."

"Close as in good friends or Springer and Bluestreak close?" Ratchet asked.

"Why don't you ask them?"

"I won't. I just don't want find them going at it in a supply closet like Springer and Blue," Ratchet said.

"Since when do you have a problem with the expression of healthy relationships?"

"I'm thinking about how Prowl's going to take it once they get here. That's all," Ratchet said.

"Good point," Ironhide said, nibbling at Ratchet's neck cables.

Ratchet swatted him. "Not tonight," he said. "Tomorrow, the day after, the whole next week as may times as you like, but not tonight. I'm too tired."

"I know," Ironhide said. "I almost forgot—how long will Kup be out of commission?"

"Hard to say," Ratchet said. "He was impaled, but it missed his spark housing. Barely. We fixed what we could of his internals, but his armor is going to have to grow back. We had to cut away a lot of it around the wound to fix him. He's patched, but like I said, it will take time. And you should know—he was asking for Optimus for the few moments he was awake. Begging me to talk to him. Said it was important."

"It'll keep," Ironhide said. "I'm just sorry I didn't wait a few seconds longer to blow that shuttle. Optimus nearly finished Megatron. He was so close. . ."

"I hope he inflicted a lot of damage," Ratchet said.

"It looked like it," Ironhide said. "And we have their medic."

"Hopefully it will buy us some time," Ratchet said.

"Me too," Ironhide said.

88888

Fowler paced, thinking. Roused from sleep the night before, a frantic call from his superiors about controlling his charges and why were they blowing up something in Canada? Making up a story on the spur of the moment about a meteor, then leaving it to his boss to smooth over ruffled Canadian feathers. And now he was back in Nevada. He wished they'd get Optimus put back together. They needed him. Hell, Earth needed him. But at least they had a few more bots, but the data he had so far was not encouraging.

"So you have a bot that's older than dirt, one nobody can understand and one that belongs in a psyche ward," Fowler said.

"Kup is one of the most experienced mechs in our forces," Ironhide said. "He trained all of us—Optimus, myself, Ultra Magnus, Hot Rod, Springer, Bluestreak, Red Alert, Tracks. Ask Arcee or Bumblebee or Bulkhead about their training. Or Wheeljack. Kup was the head of security for the entire planet before the war broke out. Then he went back to training recruits when it was called for. He is not a waste of space or resources. Even you might learn a thing or two from Kup."

"What good is speedy?" Fowler asked, moving on, glancing over to the command center where Blurr had just transformed into his new Earth mode—a Bugatti Veyron. Like that wouldn't draw attention.

"We can use him as a scout, our courier," Ironhide said. "Even communications."

"What about the paranoid one?"

"He was one of the best Enforcers on Cybertron before he was captured," Ironhide said. "I don't know. . .his paranoia is paralyzing. I don't know what good he'd be on the battlefield. We've talked about security. . .he's good at that—making sure every potential leak is fixed, weeding out enemy operatives."

"He's the one who was captured by the Decepticons while undercover?" Fowler asked.

"Yes," Ironhide said.

"Can I talk to him?"

"You can try," Ironhide said.

Fowler walked over to the medical berth where Red Alert was sitting, staring off into space. He gently touched the mech on the wrist. He looked down, startled but didn't pull away.

"You're Red Alert?"

He nodded in affirmation.

"I'm Special Agent William Fowler. I'm the liaison between the Autobots and the United States government. Ratchet told me you specialize in security. We could use a little of that around here. I'd like to hear any ideas you have. And he also told me about what happened to you. . .if you'd like to talk, I'd be glad to listen. I was a soldier for more than 20 years. Been in a couple of similar situations myself. Just contact me if you need me."

Red Alert nodded at the human as he walked back to Ironhide.

"That was very polite of you," Ironhide said.

"I need all of you functioning at 100 percent," Fowler said. "We have human specialists who deal with his kind of trauma all the time. . ."

"Ratchet can handle it," Ironhide said.

"What if he can't?" Fowler countered. "He's pregnant, his workload has doubled. He's got a lot on his plate. That bot snaps, don't blame me. He probably has the bot equivalent of post-traumatic stress disorder. Look it up."

"I will," Ironhide said.

"Good. Before I go—I got the higher ups to approve a second base," Fowler said. "Just let me know what you need."


	21. Chapter 21

Exigence

Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Outside, standing on the mesa that housed their base. Breaking the rules, but Optimus Prime didn't care. He was thinking about Megatron, and how close he'd come to crossing a line he did not want to cross. But he had. How much blood was on his hands? He held them up, staring, then letting them fall to his sides. He knew he should be inside, with the others, but he felt he would be out of place with the revelry of their gathering. One of the human children, Miko, had started asking him questions when she saw him earlier, all the words coming out in a rush, but Ratchet had gently chastised her, telling her it could wait until later. The two boys were much more considerate, hanging back, leaving him alone. Ratchet's threat was the only reason he joined them. He was glad for the news of two sparklings and the addition of the other three Autobots, but his spark was heavy with a burden he did not want to accept.

He was beginning to think of himself as Optimus Prime. He answered to the name. Maybe it was out of habit, but he still didn't remember. Then there was they way they acted around him—all but a few looked at him with awe. Ironhide treated him with respect and familiarity, but he did take into account he did not remember him. Ratchet did the same. The green twin, Springer, stayed out of his way, while Hot Rod didn't push, gave him his space, and accepted him as he was. He hadn't seen much of the other mech in the past few days because he was either out on patrol, sitting with Kup, or spending time with Blurr. No doubt Hot Rod was probably enjoying himself with the speedster at that very moment.

"Something the matter?"

Optimus whipped around, surprised the other mech was able to sneak up on him.

"I see I haven't lost my touch, or you're just so deep in thought you didn't hear me coming," Hot Rod said. "You're missing an interesting party. Blaster is having the time of his life with all the new music the kids brought him, and he's playing tunes from home. . .well, I guess this is home now. It's good to hear though. Like at least a little part of Cybertron is still with us."

"I was lost in my thoughts," Optimus said. "I'm not in the mood for a gathering. What about you? I'm surprised you're not with Blurr or your brother."

Was that just a little tiny hint of jealousy, Hot Rod wondered. Interesting. But food for thought later. "I did spend a little time with them, but right now, Blurr, Bumblebee and Bluestreak are probably still in the middle of an argument about who is the fastest bot among them. Springer has gone off with Bluestreak, and things inside are starting to wind down," Hot Rod said. "And I figured maybe you could use the company."

He sat down on a rock beside Optimus.

"Who is the fastest among them?" Optimus asked.

"Blurr," Hot Rod said. It was the truth. "But I'm almost as fast. I won every race I entered on Velocitron, except for the one where I raced against Blurr."

"Do you miss racing?" Optimus asked.

"All the time," Hot Rod said. "It's not the center of my world anymore, but I do miss it. Too bad this world is just made for speed, but has imposed speed limits."

"You could speed when no one is around. At night," Optimus said.

Hot Rod gave him a sidelong glance. "I can't believe you just said that," he said. "So if I do speed and Ironhide or Ratchet find out, can I tell them you said it was OK?"

"I am their Prime," Optimus said.

"You starting to believe that yet?" Hot Rod said.

"Accepting the truth and believing it are two different things," Optimus said. "I know in my spark it's the truth, but accepting it. . .that is not so easy."

"I can't imagine what you're going through," Hot Rod said. "I know Ironhide and Ratchet are trying to give you time to adjust, but that isn't a luxury we have."

He rapped on Optimus' helm with his knuckles. "You're still our Prime. That hasn't changed," Hot Rod said. "You know how to lead. You just need to trust that."

"I'm glad someone has confidence in me," Optimus said.

"I do. So do the others. Springer, too. He's just an aft sometimes to get me riled," Hot Rod said. "I just wish Kup was awake already. I want to know why those three are here and not the Xantium and the rest of the crew."

Optimus was intrigued, too. Three days had passed since the crash and Ratchet was keeping the ancient mech in stasis. Ironhide had asked if it was for Kup's benefit or Ratchet's own. He'd answered first with a wrench to his mate's head, then explained Kup needed that time in stasis because it was allowing him to heal faster. Now all they could do was wait until Kup was ready to be brought out of stasis.

Then he noticed how Hot Rod's optics dimmed as he received a comm from someone, and grinned.

"C'mon. Ratch and Ironhide have turned in for the night. Blaster won't tell on us, and we're going to go race," Hot Rod said.

88888

Blurr smirked. Hot Rod couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Knock Out was smugly pleased with himself. So was Tracks. Bluestreak's expression was somewhere between mortified and happy. Only Bumblebee had the decency to look ashamed that he'd done something wrong. Optimus and Springer were with the little group, but they were off to the side, as they were only accessories to the previous' nights illicit activities. They were lined up at something less than attention in front of Ironhide. It was just before 0400 and the weapons specialist was not happy. The bunch of them had been out racing. Ironhide only knew because Fowler had called earlier, asking if any of his bots were unaccounted for because he'd gotten passed by a familiar-looking Bugatti Veyron and Dodge Challenger. There couldn't be that many Veyrons in the area, could there? Especially that shade of blue?

"What in the slagging Pit were all of you thinking?" Ironhide asked. "You endangered Fowler, could've blown our cover, all over a little joy-riding."

"Fowler wasn't hurt and we didn't even run him off the road so what's the big deal I mean it's late and no one's out so. . ."

"Do you want to give away the location of our base to the Decepticons?" Ironhide asked. "Why don't you just lead them back next time? I should make you all scrub the base with human toothbrushes. I'll think of something later. Get out of my sight."

The younger mechs all filed out, leaving Optimus and Ironhide alone.

"Have something to say?" Ironhide asked.

"Haven't they earned the right to blow off some steam?" Optimus said.

Ironhide twitched. He was right. Slightly.

"Maybe, but not like that," he said.

"Then how do we maintain discipline while allowing those we serve with to express and enjoy themselves occasionally?" Optimus asked.

"It's very fine line," Ironhide said. "I was never a civilian, so I've always looked to others to provide the outlet while I help maintain discipline. Kup has been both a civilian and served in the military, so he could give you a better answer. Then there's you—a civilian before you became Prime. I think you'll have to find your own way on this one. Just like you did with fraternization. Ultra Magnus looked down on it, but you turned a blind eye as long as it didn't interfere with our duties. It's late. Go get some rest. I don't want Ratchet to know I've been one."

Five minutes later, Ironhide let himself into their quarters, lay down on the berth, snuggling up against Ratchet.

"Where have you been?"

Slag.

"Blaster picked up an anomaly while monitoring some old frequencies, and wanted me to take a listen," Ironhide said. "It was nothing."

"Liar," Ratchet said.

"I'll find out eventually," Ratchet said.

88888

0830\. Early for a Saturday morning, but Ironhide didn't mind being up. He was in the med bay with Ratchet and Knock Out. They were going to bring Kup back online, and decided to do it before their human charges arrived for the day. The Decepticon medic watched the monitors while Ratchet completed the process of waking up the ancient mech. Moments later, they were disconnecting him from the monitors and watching as his optics onlined and he tried sitting up.

"Easy, old-timer," Ratchet said, easing Kup back onto the berth.

"Ratchet?" Kup asked.

"I'm afraid so," Ratchet said, smiling. The smile vanished when Kup looked at the mech standing beside him.

"Knock Out changed sides? Not surprising," Kup said. "Who else is here?"

Ironhide walked up, clasping hands with Kup as he sat up again.

"All in good time," Ironhide said. "We've been wondering why you three came in a shuttle, and where is the Xantium?"

Kup crossed his arms. Two could play that game. He didn't risk his neck stealing a ship and disobeying orders to travel half-way across the galaxy to get interrogated by a youngling.

"Where is the shuttle? Is it intact?" Kup asked.

"We burned it to keep the Decepticons from getting their hands on it," Ironhide asked. "Was it important?"

"The shuttle doesn't matter. Something we were carrying on that shuttle is more important than you can possibly imagine," Kup said.

"What is it?" Ironhide asked.

"Where is Optimus?" Kup asked.

"Recharging," Ironhide said.

"Then wake him up," Kup said, standing. "Or I'll do it myself."

Ironhide shoved him back down on the berth. "There's something you need to know," he said. "Optimus isn't himself. . .something happened. . ."

Kup knew that. He'd been having dreams for weeks. Dreams about Alpha Trion, a mech he thought died on Cybertron, followed by dreams of something happening to Optimus. Then came a coded message, for him, from an A3, on Cybertron, that he needed to get the package he'd been entrusted with to a planet called Earth. He'd showed Ultra Magnus the message, told him about the dreams, and Magnus told him flat-out he was not leaving the Xantium. So Kup did the exact opposite of what he was told. The instant they made planetfall at the Autobot colony Artaere, he'd asked two of the mechs he trusted the most, that could be discreet, and they procured a ship and moved the package and left. Ultra Magnus was too busy kissing aft and promising to help fix space bridges to notice they were gone. The commander of the Wreckers had not been happy. He threatened coming after them, but he didn't. The only communication they received after that was short—Prowl wishing them good luck.

"Something happened to the Matrix," Ratchet said. "It's empty, and Optimus doesn't remember being Prime."

"You better start at the beginning," Kup said. "I need to know what happened if we're going to have any chance of fixing this."

"What do you mean?" Ironhide asked.

"All in good time," Kup said with a wry smile, throwing Ironhide's words back at him.


	22. Chapter 22

Exigence

Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ironhide listened while Ratchet talked, and Kup kept mostly silent, asking questions here and there. Knock Out left them alone, no doubt heading back to his mate for some recharge. The discussion was going fine until Ratchet came to the part where Optimus went with Megatron, and the two months he was gone.

"What? I'm not sure I heard you right," Kup said.

"Optimus was with the Decepticons a little over two months," Ratchet said.

"How in the Pit could you let that happen?" Kup asked, standing. "Two months, and you don't know what they did to him?"

"He wasn't mistreated, if that's what you're insinuating," Ratchet said.

"He was with Megatron two months," Kup said. "He shouldn't have been with them two days."

"It was four of us against the Nemesis until Ironhide and the others arrived," Ratchet said.

"How did you get him back?" Kup asked.

"After many failed attempts," Ratchet said. "Actually it was Hot Rod who succeeded, with the help of Knock Out."

"Can I see Optimus then?" Kup said.

"When I say you can," Ratchet said. "You might feel fine, but you've got some healing to do. I'm not letting you charge out of here until you're ready."

"I'm fine, and there's work to be done," Kup said, standing.

Ratchet pushed him back down.

"Don't argue with me," the medic said.

"I'm not," Kup said. "I'm telling you I'm leaving."

"And doing what?" Ratchet asked.

"To find someone who will tell me where Optimus is, so I can see for myself what a mess this all is," Kup said.

"You're blaming this on me?" Ratchet said.

"No," Kup said.

"You're insinuating we failed to get Optimus back under my leadership. . ." Ratchet said, raising his voice.

"I didn't say that, and I didn't imply it, either, Ratchet," Kup said, turning to Ironhide. "Is there something wrong here?'

"Slightly," Ironhide said. "Ratchet, let it go. I'll take care of things. Go get some rest.

"I don't need rest," Ratchet snapped. "What I need is a break from the idiocy."

With that, he walked away.

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Optimus sat with the children, ignoring the argument going on behind them. He heard his name mentioned several times. The three arguing mechs didn't notice as he walked by, joining the children. Miko was pestering him, and he finally looked down.

"You really don't remember?" she asked.

"I do not," Optimus said.

"That sucks," Miko said. "Oh well. You're back, and that's all that matters. Why are they arguing with grandpa over there?"

The argument was escalating, voices getting louder, and they watched as Ratchet walked away, leaving Ironhide and Kup alone.

"I'm not sure who is being more stubborn," Optimus said.

"At least Ratchet has a good reason," Miko said. "My mom was touchy when she was pregnant with my little brother. Hormones will do that to you."

"We'll all be fortunate to make it through Ratchet's gestation intact," Optimus said.

"No kidding," Miko said. "C'mon. You can play video games with us. No pressure."

Optimus followed the girl, looking back over his shoulder at Kup and Ironhide, who were deep in conversation. He knew Kup wanted to speak with him, and he was curious to find out why. It would happen, all in good time.

88888

Kup watched Ratchet walk away, confused. "What's wrong with him?" he asked.

"Ratchet is sparked," Ironhide said.

Oh. That explained the medic's sensitivity.

"And just so you know, Breakdown is carrying also," Ironhide said. "It's why he and Knock Out are here. The offered intelligence in return for amnesty."

"Useful intelligence, I hope?" Kup asked.

"We can discuss it if you like," Ironhide said, hoping the distraction would help keep Kup busy for a while. Optimus was finally spending time with the children, and he wasn't going to interrupt.

Ironhide gave him a tour of the base, discussing the Decepticon intelligence as they went.

"Promising information," Kup said. "But I still have questions—like what happened to the Allspark? Have they found it? Where is the Ark and the rest of its crew?"

"The Allspark is lost, and as for the Ark, that is a question I haven't asked myself," Ironhide said. "

"Well, the fact Ratchet is carrying shows we don't exactly need the Allspark to propagate the species," Kup said. "How far along is he?'

"About a month," Ironhide said.

"Four months to go," Kup said. "I bet that's going to be a very long four months."

"Don't remind me," Ironhide said. "Ratchet hasn't let me live down the fact his condition is my fault."

Kup snorted. "Why's he angry about it?"

"Not so much angry now as resigned," Ironhide said. "He'd all but talked himself out of it before we showed up, and I brought up bonding and having a sparkling as soon as I could. Ratchet thinks both are a liability."

"Yet he's the one who's sparked," Kup said. "You must've been very persuasive."

"Something like that," Ironhide said. "Ratchet has warmed to the idea, now he is actually carrying."

"I'm happy for you both," Kup said. "Speaking of sparklings, how far gone is Breakdown?"

"A little more than half-way through his gestation," Ironhide said. "He's carrying a femme."

"At least they got away from Megatron," Kup said. "How did they manage that?"

"Hot Rod had a hand in that, too," Ironhide said.

"I take it the lad's been disobeying orders yet still ending up doing the right thing?" Kup asked.

"Something like that," Ironhide said. "He's nearly got himself killed several times, though."

"Of course," Kup said. "How did Springer handle it?"

"As well as you can expect," Ironhide said. "Almost catatonic when we had to leave Hot Rod behind on the Nemesis in a failed attempt at getting Optimus back. . ."

He stopped when he saw the look on Kup's face—pursed lips, a flinty gleam in his optics suggesting he'd better shut up or explain. Ironhide chose shutting up.

"I have a lot of explaining to do, don't I?" Ironhide said.

"You do," Kup said.


	23. Chapter 23

Exigence

Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Optimus listened to the conversation going on behind him, trying to split his attention between the game he played with Miko and the discussion Kup and Ironhide were having. He gave up on the game when the two mechs started yelling at each other.

"Sparkling stupidity, I tell you," Kup shouted, standing up, trying to get in Ironhide's face. "Think you were Prowl, trying to plan an escape like that? You nearly got Hot Rod killed. You got him tortured, and Primus only knows what those damn Decepticons did to Optimus. . ."

A firm grip on the ancient mech's shoulder made him stop. Optimus gently shoved him back toward the medical berth and gave Ironhide a stern glare.

"None of what's happened is Ironhide's fault," Optimus said. "It can't be changed. Do I need to call Ratchet?"

Ironhide glared, but relaxed. "I thought you didn't remember, but you're starting to act like a Prime," he said.

"Lad, it's good to see you," Kup said. "You remember me, don't you?"

"I do remember you," Optimus said. "At least, I remember a few things about you."

"All good, I hope," Kup said.

"Most of it," Optimus said.

"Kup, this can wait. You need to rest," Ironhide said. "I can go get Hot Rod. He's around here somewhere. He can fill you in on his adventures since we got here."

"I'd like that," Kup said, somewhat mollified by the offer. "But we're not done."

"I know, Kup. I know," Ironhide said, leaving Optimus alone with the other mech.

"You faced the Unmaker," Kup said.

"That's what I've been told," Optimus said.

"You let Megatron lie to you. Again," Kup said.

Optimus said nothing.

"Lad, it's all right. You've always been the trusting kind. I know you still believe he can change, right?" Kup asked.

"No one is beyond redemption," Optimus said.

Kup knew a lost cause when he saw it, so he didn't press the matter. And Hot Rod was coming their way, and he couldn't suppress a smile.

"One of my three lads," Kup said as Hot Rod enveloped him in a hug. "Punk. I hear you're lucky to be alive."

"Yeah," Hot Rod muttered, shooting Optimus a look.

Interesting, that, Kup noted, but he filed it away for later. "Tell me about how you rescued your Prime. Ironhide told me his version, but I want to hear yours."

88888

Later that afternoon, Ratchet unleashed the children on Kup, and at the moment, he was telling them stories about Dynobots and something called Chaos. It was keeping Kup busy (for the moment) and letting him finish up lecturing Breakdown about sparkling care. Primus, the former Decepticon was eager to learn. Knock Out was with him, glaring at the medic, but Ratchet ignored it. It was a good refresher for him, too. Two sparklings on the base in the near future. He sighed, thinking about the changes required about base to sparkling-proof it. And names. At the moment, Breakdown and Knock Out were bickering about names.

"Something flashy," Knock Out said. "Like her sire."

"We should wait until she's actually here," Breakdown said. "Then decide."

"I don't care if you name your sparkling Tinkerbell," Ratchet said. "Just don't start a screaming match over it. Actually, Breakdown's suggestion is a good one. You could use 'Breakout' or 'Knockdown.'"

"Breakout isn't bad," Knock Out said. "Breaky, you're right. Do you like that?"

Ratchet rolled his optics at the endearment, but it was keeping the two mechs from fighting.

"It'll do," Breakdown said. "Thanks, Hatchet."

"You're welcome," Ratchet muttered. Then he was wrapped in a pair of arms from behind. Ironhide nibbled at his neck cables. In public.

"At least they've agreed on a name," Ironhide said, letting the medic go. "Have you come up with a suitable one for our sparkling?"

"I've narrowed it down," Ratchet said.

"Going to share?" Ironhide said.

"Possibly," Ratchet said. "Did Kup tell you what was so important they disobeyed orders and nearly died to bring here?"

"No," Ironhide said. "I asked again, but he won't tell me."

"Probably going senile," Ratchet said.

"Kup had his reasons. I believe that," Ironhide said. "We're going to have to trust him."

Ratchet resisted the urge to roll his optics again. He was a mech of science, but the past few months had him learning to take things on faith. A frightening notion, that, but they were dealing with a Prime who lost his memories because of the purging of a legendary artifact, a being out of their darkest myths and with his luck, the legacy of the damn Primes.


	24. Chapter 24

Exigence

Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Recharge wouldn't come for Kup. One could only stare at the ceiling panels for so long, so he finally rolled off his berth in medical. Across the way, he saw Springer working in the communications center, supposedly on monitor duty. He walked over, taking Springer's seat, watching the other mech work.

"You behaving yourself?" Kup asked, watching Springer pull a panel. The younger mech glanced sideways at him for an instant, turning his attention back to his work.

"Depends," Springer said.

"You know what I'm talking about," Kup said. "How's it going with Blue?"

"Good," Springer said.

"I don't think I have to tell you what'll happen when Prowl gets here, and finds out about you two, do I?" Kup asked.

"Nope," Springer answered.

"OK. At least we have that squared away. What's going on between Hot Rod and Optimus?"

Springer's head snapped around. "What in the Pit are you talking about? Hot Rod is so not interested. He and Blurr have been spending a lot of time together. . ."

"As friends," Kup said. "You sure he's not interested in Optimus?"

"If it was anything else, I'd know," Springer snapped. "I don't think Rodi is that stupid."

Kup didn't reply. Springer being snippy about his twin wasn't anything new. They were a more stable pair than Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, but that was because he'd taken charge of them soon enough to knock some sense and civility into them. Well, some civility. This pair of twins could still be as volatile as the older set of twins. He'd had the training of Sunny and Sides, so had experience dealing with the challenge of twins. He shared a decent enough friendship with them, but he had a special bond with Hot Rod and Springer. They still drove him nuts, though, sometimes through their inexperience and sometimes through stupidity, but he never once had a reason to question their bravery or loyalty.

Savage warriors and loyal friends, the two (and Optimus) were probably as close as he'd ever come to having his own offspring. That was a regret he hadn't considered in well, millennia. Now he was too old, and he'd reconciled himself to that fact a long time ago, contenting himself with teaching each successive generation of younglings. And now there was the hope of a next generation, with Ratchet and Ironhide's sparkling. Ratchet sparked. Primus, what next, Kup thought. Prowl and Jazz had been considering it for a long time, he knew, and once they made planet-fall, he figured it was a sure thing. There was also Knock Out and Breakdown's femme. Two on the way, and more sure to follow.

The younger generations said they tired of his stories, but his experience they respected. Reassurance for the younglings was always a good thing. His experience gave them that—they weren't facing something they couldn't defeat. It was only when he couldn't come up with anything they worried, and that didn't happen often. When it did, it was never good.

Relic. Old-timer. Antique. The younglings thought they were so creative with their nicknames. In return, they were a bunch of youngling punks with a lot to learn. Even Ironhide and Optimus. Then again, everyone was much younger than he. Not many Autobots, or Decepticons, had lived as long as Kup. He figured he was one of the oldest Cybertronians remaining, if not for Alpha Trion.

Red Alert was barely holding himself together. Optimus was good with the damaged mech, talking quietly with him several hours each day, helping bring him out of his shell. He was terse with Miko, could stand Raf for a little longer, but tolerated Jack the best of the three children.

Then there was the fact Kup couldn't ignore the fact there was probably something going on between Optimus and Hot Rod. Just a suspicion. Only a few days on Earth and Kup wasn't blind to the way Optimus spent much of his off-duty time with Hot Rod (when he could pull him away from his twin or Blurr). Optimus had a way of grounding the volatile young mech. Maybe some of Optimus' calm and patience was wearing off on Hot Rod. Kup could hope.

Relationship issues were a tiny problem compared to the monumental issue of Optimus not remembering. The lad had the strangest luck. Helping spearhead the rebellion on Cybertron, becoming Prime, facing the Unmaker. . .Optimus was something special, and maybe that was why he was the one to face those things. Any other bot would've broken under the same circumstances. He knew once, a part of Optimus still hoped Megtron could be redeemed. Kup didn't share that sentiment. Megatron had conviction, so did Optimus, but only one side had it right. The Autobots weren't perfect, but they had something the Decepticons lacked—the Matrix.

Megatron only saw power where the Primes were concerned, not the responsibility or compassion they carried, the weight of a people and planet's fate on their shoulders. The Matrix was earned, not given. Well, given when passed from one Prime to another, but eventually, it would make its way to the worthy. Being appointed Prime was one thing, earning that title was another matter. Some Primes were Prime in name only, but Optimus was one of the bearers of the Matrix, a true Prime, like the original 12. Even though he'd lost his memories, the Matrix hadn't abandoned him, and he hadn't forsaken it. That gave Kup hope. Maybe just because Optimus couldn't remember, he hadn't lost the Matrix.


	25. Chapter 25

Exigence

Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

As he was awake, Kup decided it was time to take care of one matter of business before anything else happened. Rousing Ironhide from recharge, he dragged out of the irate mech the location of the item he'd nearly died protecting. For which he'd also disobeyed orders, stolen a shuttle, and hauled aft half-way across the galaxy to keep out of Decepticon hands, only to nearly deliver it into the clutches of Megatron. Ironhide helped Kup secure it in the bowels of headquarters, and had only asked about the thing once. He knew better than to ask again. Kup had his suspicions about it, but he kept those to himself. Not the Covenant. If it fell into the wrong hands. . .then again, only a Prime could make sense of it, if legend held true.

Only it couldn't be the Covenant of Primus. It was a legend, had to be, except something in the back of Kup's mind suggested otherwise. Primus help them all if it was.

88888

Ratchet glared at Knock Out as the mech smirked back at him. Helping the children with their homework was an acceptable way to spend an afternoon when nothing more pressing needed his presence. Knock Out was going to need medical attention if he kept acting superior, and not even Ironhide or Optimus was enough deterrent if they got involved. However, as he was moving into what he was calling the "purging stage" of carrying, Ironhide was hovering, asking too many questions Ratchet couldn't answer when he was on his knees purging his tanks. Ironhide's concern and curiosity were endearing, and Ratchet wasn't going to take either for granted.

As matters stood, though, he was going to have to have another spark-to-heart talk with Miko about asking questions about Cybertronian reproduction. Her curiosity was driving him crazy, and if he didn't answer her questions, she'd find someone who could, like Knock Out. Hardly acceptable. And she kept asking if she could be a fairy god aunt or something to his sparkling. Ironhide thought it was cute. Ironhide and cute. Primus. That aft-head kept pestering him about names, and making suggestions of his own. The rank and file also had started a pool regarding the gender of the sparkling, and possible names. Hot Rod had even gone so far as to suggest everyone at the base pick a name, with the winning moniker being chosen as the sparkling's designation.

Not happening, Ratchet reflected. Crazy youngling, anyway. Another being needing a good talking-to. The medic reminded himself to add it to his to do list. Like he wasn't the only one noticing how Hot Rod had his optics on Optimus when he thought no one was looking. Maybe he was just in awe of his Prime. Ratchet could hope, but anything else was unthinkable.


	26. Chapter 26

Exigence

Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

These days, Ratchet reflected, it didn't take much to warrant a celebration on base. Well, the news Ultra Magnus' crew was finally within communications distance of Earth was something to celebrate. A glitching navigation computer and crew bickering over the trustworthiness of a certain tactician's math had them giving no good estimate on when they'd make Earthfall. Ratchet was just grateful they were on their way. Bluestreak was happy, and Red Alert had even smiled at the news.

And Ironhide had tactfully ignored Prowl's inquiries about the Earth crew's well-being. No need to glitch the Autobot SIC with reports about sparklings, Decepticon defections, tales of the Unmaker and Optimus' amnesia. Or Springer and Bluestreak's intentions of bonding. Not in the near future, but they'd thrown it out for everyone's benefit that night, just so everyone knew they were serious and committed to one another. They deserved being committed, Ratchet mused, but who was he to deny anyone happiness? By the Pit, he was sparked with Ironhide's offspring, and Knock Out and Breakdown were even talking of bonding once their sparkling was born.

That the two were talking like they meant to stay was a good sign. The pair was safe with the Autobots, and Primus only knew what Megatron would do if he found them. Both former Decepticons had come to him, telling him they'd been having nightmares, but wouldn't divulge details. Ratchet didn't want to hear them. Knowing Megatron's threat of tearing Breakdown's sparkling from his body was enough to give him nightmares. The medic shuddered at the thought, earning a glance from Ironhide.

"Something the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing," Ratchet said. "Go get me some of those energon goodies before Bumblebee and Blurr eat them all."

"You and your cravings," Ironhide said.

"It's only going to get worse before it's over," Ratchet said, slapping his mate of his aft as he passed. Unfortunately for the medic, he didn't know how prophetic his words were going to be.

88888

Springer had his arms wrapped around Bluestreak, chin resting on the other mech's shoulder, enjoying each other's company. They'd left the party after their announcement, heading to their quarters for alone time. He knew it made Blue happy they were being open about their relationship, and announced they were going to someday make it official. Once, the thought of such a commitment would've made Springer run, but not anymore. He'd even been gratified by the response from his fellow Autobots. Acceptance and joy from Hot Rod, obviously, and well wishes from the others.

Ratchet obviously didn't care, he'd just dragged him aside and wished him the best when Prowl showed up. Hell, Red Alert was too preoccupied to even notice, or he had, and hadn't said anything. Yet. Prowl's twin, and not even so much as a dirty look aimed his way. Maybe Red was just saving up and waiting until Prowl's arrival, and they'd give him a double-whammy. That was enough to make his energon run cold. He shuddered.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Blue asked.

"Nothing," Springer said, tightening his arms around the other mech.

"You think too much," Blue said.

"And you talk too much," Springer retorted.

"You know there's only one way to keep me quiet," Blue said.

Springer kissed the other mech, silencing him the only way he knew how.

88888

Hot Rod sat on the top of the mesa, staring into the distance. He wasn't feeling up to partying. He was happy for Springer and Blue, but he was dealing with his own conflicted feelings. Blurr kept dropping hints Hot Rod couldn't ignore. He hung around while Hot Rod was on monitor duty, watching, not saying much. He knew what Blurr wanted, what he once hoped for himself, but now he wasn't so sure. Primus, Blurr was beautiful, and once one got past the surface, there was so much more, something that at one point, Hot Rod was ready to explore. They needed to talk. He didn't know if he was ready to pick up where they left off—more than friends, but not lovers. And that had all come crashing to a halt once they came to Earth with the knowledge the Decepticons were there also, and the war was far from over.

That and an attraction so strong to a mech who was unattainable. And said mech had just walked up behind him. No mistaking the footsteps and energy field of Optimus Prime.

"May I join you?" Optimus asked, sitting down beside him.

"I can't stop you," Hot Rod said.

"You're troubled?" Optimus said.

"I don't want to talk about it," Hot Rod said.

"Surely you're not unhappy about your brother and Bluestreak," Optimus said.

"Of course not," Hot Rod said. "I'm just worried, that's all."

"Why?" Optimus asked.

"One word—Prowl," Hot Rod said.

"He should be happy for Bluestreak," Optimus said.

"Should be," Hot Rod said. "Prowl is going to glitch when he finds out Springer popped Blue's seals. And they're going to bond."

"It is a natural course of events," Optimus said.

"Spring moves fast," Hot Rod replied.

"Do you?" Optimus asked.

"Not really," Hot Rod said. His seals were still intact, thank you very much. Optimus didn't need to know that. Personal information he wasn't volunteering unless things progressed. . .naturally, with Optimus. He hoped they would. Primus, he hoped. . .Big if, though. His Prime, and he didn't remember.

"Yeah, well, I think I'm going to head back inside," Hot Rod said, standing. Optimus stood also, facing him. Then a kiss, a touch so soft he was almost sure it wasn't happening, but the bigger mech's frame pressed against his own, the flare in his energy field, the hitch of his own intakes, oh yes, it was definitely happening. His own arms wrapping around the other mech, fingers digging into his armor, and then Optimus was stepping away.

"Ironhide is requesting my presence in ops," Optimus said.

"Ironhide can kiss my aft," Hot Rod muttered.

Optimus smiled slightly. "His timing leaves much to be desired."

"Remind him who's in charge, will you?" Hot Rod asked.

"I'll be sure to pass that along," Optimus said. "Coming with me?"

"No. I think I'll stay out here a while," Hot Rod said.

"I'll rejoin you later, if I can," Optimus said.

"Fat chance," Hot Rod said. Frag it all, Springer and Kup would have his head if they found out. But his business, no one else's, not even Springer. His choice, something he never would've imagined, but now, he could only hold on for the ride. This chance, he wasn't going to let it pass. Kup always talked about seizing opportunities when they came along, and he was grabbing this one and holding on until the end, no matter what happened. Afraid? Hell yes. How could he not be? But wait. . .there was Blurr to consider, and Optimus himself. He couldn't remember, and if and when he did get his memories back, would he even feel the same?


	27. Chapter 27

Exigence

Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Monitor duty. Easy, but necessary work. Arcee didn't mind at the moment. She was alone, barring the bickering going on in the med bay, but she ignored it. The party was over, except Knock Out and Ratchet were arguing about energon mixes for carrying mechs. She wanted to tell them to stow it, but getting between the two medics was probably a bad idea. The noise from them was enough she didn't notice she had a visitor. Blaster sidled up, leaning against the console beside her.

"Want some company?" Blaster asked.

"Not really," Arcee said.

"You're sure?"

"I most definitely am," Arcee said. "Go bother Tracks."

"I wanted to get away from Tracks. I left him complaining about what this planet's atmosphere is doing to his paint job."

"He's a conceited aft," Arcee said.

"Not always," Blaster said.

She shot him a look.

"Tracks isn't so bad," Blaster said.

"How can you put up with him?" Arcee snapped.

"Years of experience," Blaster said. "Seriously, femme. . ."

"What?"

"Nothing," Blaster said. "I'll leave you alone."

Arcee sighed, knowing she was probably going to regret it later. "Stay," she said.

Blaster's warm smile made her smile back, and he took a seat beside her.

"I have some tunes you might like," he said. "Picked up a lot of music out in the colonies. Thought you might want to hear some of it."

"I would like that," Arcee said. "But don't think you're going to be able to make a habit of this."

"Not a problem," Blaster said.

88888

Ratchet loathed it when his patients tried begging and bargaining, especially when said patient was weeks away from his sparkling's emergence.

"No, absolutely not," Ratchet said.

"Ratchet, just a short time outside, it's all we're asking," Knock Out said.

"I thought it was uncomfortable for Breakdown to transform," the medic said, leveling his gaze on the bigger mech.

"I just want a little time out on the road," Breakdown said. "I can still transform, and I'm getting claustrophobic."

"We're not prisoners," Knock Out said. "We're not Autobots, either."

"No, but your mate is under my care," Ratchet said. "Fine, a half hour then, and I'm sending someone with you, just in case. You two seem to like Hot Rod, so he can baby-sit."

Ratchet commed the younger mech, waiting for him to show up, then bridged the three a couple of miles from base. He'd threatened Hot Rod to keep an eye on Breakdown.

888888

A drive with two refugees, and what could go wrong, Hot Rod reflected. Over the next few moments, he'd know just how fast circumstances would change. Pure chance Dreadwing was patrolling where they were, and three ground-pounders weren't exactly a match for the Seeker. So when Hot Rod woke up in chains on the Nemesis, he wasn't surprised because he'd been in this particular spot before. But what was different was Breakdown also trussed up in chains across the room, Megatron pacing back and forth in front of the other mech.

Hot Rod tested the chains, earning a glare from the Decepticon leader.

"Autobot, I'll deal with you when I'm done with Breakdown," he said, turning his attention back to his other prisoner.

"You disobeyed my orders, Breakdown," Megatron said. "Then you betray me. Breakdown, you have no idea how much you've disappointed me. Now you're going to pay."

Breakdown screamed as Megatron's talons dug into his chest. He struggled against his bonds, but Megatron only dug his claws in deeper.

"You'll live long enough to see the destruction of the spawn you carry," Megatron spat. "Then I'll finish you, and then it's your turn, Autobot."

Hot Rod tried tuning out the sound of Breakdown's screams, onlined his saw, cutting himself loose. Offering up a silent prayer to Primus, he ran straight for Megatron.


	28. Chapter 28

Exigence

Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

The Decepticon tyrant wasn't expecting an attack, and Hot Rod barely registered the surprise on Megatron's face as he managed to dodge past the bigger mech, swiping at the chains holding Breakdown. He damaged them enough for the strain to drop Breakdown to the floor, but he wasn't moving. Then Megatron recovered, grabbing Hot Rod, throwing him into a wall. Stunned, Hot Rod managed to get back on his feet, onlining his weapons, unleashing on Megatron. The Decepticon roared in pain, but he was still standing, and calmly started walking toward Hot Rod, backing him up until he was against the wall.

"I remember you Autobot, the one who stole Orion away from me," Megatron said. "Tell me your name."

Hot Rod spat at the bigger mech.

"Insolence will get you nowhere," Megatron said, punching Hot Rod in the face, satisfied as the Autobot slumped to the floor. "You will come to regret what you've done. When I'm through with you, you'll be screaming, begging for mercy, but it will never come. My face will be the last thing you see on this plane of existence."

"Fat chance," Hot Rod muttered.

"Still foolish enough to talk back?" Megatron asked, grabbing him by the right arm, and placing a foot against Hot Rod's shoulder, and he pulled. Hot Rod screamed in aguish as the Decepticon pulled his arm out of its socket, energon lines bursting, wires, connectors and gears tearing and breaking.

Hot Rod whimpered in pain as Megatron knelt down, face inches from his own. "Ready to talk, Autobot?"

"Never," Hot Rod gasped.

"Bravery. What foolish sentiment. You Autobots die so quickly," Megatron said.

"Not. . .not dead. . .yet," Hot Rod managed.

"Not yet, but you will be. So will that traitor Breakdown, and that parasite he carries," Megatron said.

Suddenly, he turned around, noting Soundwave's presence.

"What are you doing here? Your presence is not necessary," Megatron said.

Soundwave paid no attention to his leader, instead trying to get through to the Autobot with his telepathy. He sent Hot Rod a set of coordinates, hoping the mech would understand.

:Nemesis coordinates. For bridge:

Hot Rod concentrated on his bond with Springer, hoping his twin was still conscious.

Rodi? What. . .

Spring, shut up. I only have seconds, if that. Send a bridge to coordinates 863.22.4710. NOW.

Megatron watched as Soundwave knelt down by Breakdown, but turned his attention back to Hot Rod.

"Your name, Autobot, so you can stand as a warning to future generations of Autobots as to what happens when you defy me," Megatron said.

"Scraplet," Hot Rod said.

Megatron snarled, plunging his claws in to Hot Rod's chest, and he knew no more.

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Ratchet checked over the med bay, knowing full well it was ready for any crisis. Perceptor was beside him, waiting, not saying a word. Knock Out was sedated in his quarters. Ratchet had left the bridge operation to Bluestreak, who needed something to do besides worry about Springer, who was unconscious in their makeshift quarters. The green twin had screamed and then blacked out after receiving a set of coordinates from Hot Rod. That certainly boded well, the medic mused. He was silently counting down the minutes until Ironhide, Optimus and the others returned with Hot Rod and Breakdown. Blaster was working the comms in ops.

Thirty minutes clicked by, then 45, and when almost an hour was up, Ironhide came over the comm, asking for a bridge. Perceptor beat Ratchet to it, and they waited as the tunnel of light appeared, and their fellow Autobots returned. First out was Ironhide and Bulkhead, and Ratchet vented a sigh of relief, seeing his mate was all right, but the relief was short-lived when it set in they were dragging Breakdown between them.

Ratchet watched as the two mechs laid the former Decepticon down on a berth.

"I think he's in stasis lock," Ironhide said. "And Wheeljack said his emergence protocols are online."

"Anyone else wounded?" Ratchet asked.

"A few scraped up, but only one other serious," Ironhide said.

"Who?" Ratchet said.

His question was answered when Optimus Prime walked over, carrying Hot Rod. Hot Rod's arm was hanging by a thread, and he had deep gouges in his chest armor, matching those inflicted on Breakdown. Optimus lay the other mech down on a medical berth.

"Optimus, I need you to check on Knock Out," Ratchet said. "Then go stay with Bluestreak and Springer, will you?" Ratchet asked, pushing Optimus aside. "Hot Rod can wait, but not for long. We need to deal with Breakdown first."

"But. . ."

"Follow orders, damn it," Ratchet snapped.

Then Blurr was standing beside Optimus, optics on Hot Rod.

"Damn it, get out of space or. . ."

"Pleaseletoneofusstayhecantbe leftalone. . ." Blurr started.

"Fine. You can stay, but keep out of the way," Ratchet said. He turned on his heel, joining Perceptor and Wheeljack, who had already started working on Breakdown, starting an energon drip and hardline connection with the unconscious mech. And of course, Wheeljack's hardline with Breakdown and all the scans from their initial assessment showed he was indeed in stasis lock. Ratchet sighed, turning his attention to the sparkling. She was still alive, for the moment.

"We get the sparkling out, stabilize her, then work on Hot Rod. Good thing Breakdown's in stasis lock," Ratchet said. "Let's get to work."


	29. Chapter 29

Exigence

Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, relieved when he saw it was Ironhide.

"Things calmed down any?" he asked, nodding toward Knock Out, who was standing watch over the incubation pod holding his daughter.

"She's stable," Ratchet said. "A tiny little thing. We're lucky she survived what she's been through."

"How's Knock Out?"

"He hasn't said a word yet," Ratchet said. "We got Breakdown into the CR chamber, and Perceptor is keeping an eye on him for now."

"What about Hot Rod?"

"He'll live," Ratchet said. "We put his shoulder back together, but that damage to his chest. . .identical to Breakdown's injuries. If I ever get my hands on Megatron. . ."

"Easy Ratch," Ironhide said. "Don't think about it. You did good work today. That's all that matters."

"I never should have agreed to let Knock Out and Breakdown leave the base," Ratchet said.

"If it hadn't happened now, it would have eventually," Ironhide said. "They're safe now."

"Are they?" Ratchet asked, standing, starting to pace. "Are any of us, really?"

"You're exhausted," Ironhide said. "When did you last have some energon?"

"My intake is fine," Ratchet said. "Wheeljack and Perceptor made sure I had some energon, and I can't rest yet."

"Let somebody else watch monitors," Ironhide said.

"Not on that sparkling," Ratchet said. "I'm not leaving Knock Out alone."

"What about Hot Rod?"

"I've had to tell Blurr and Optimus to get lost several times tonight," Ratchet said. "Mind explaining that?"

"Does it even matter right now?" Ironhide said. "I thought Optimus was supposed to stay with Springer and Bluestreak."

"He is," Ratchet said.

"Can't Wheeljack keep an eye on the sparkling?" Ironhide asked.

"Wheeljack is getting some much-deserved rest," Ratchet said. "He's supposed to relieve me in a few hours. Perceptor is monitoring Breakdown in the CR chamber. We need to be ready in case something else happens."

"All of us can do some field repairs, and Red Alert was certified at one time as a field medic," Ironhide said. "Why aren't you utilizing his skills?"

"Because he has a debilitating psychosis and has been traumatized more than any one being has the right to be," Ratchet said. "Seeing Breakdown and Hot Rod like this could trigger another break, and that's the last thing Red needs."

"The mech needs to grow some backstruts, quit playing the victim, and make himself useful," Ironhide said. "I'm going to get him. He can spell you for a few hours."

"He's not equipped to deal with a premature sparkling suffering from trauma," Ratchet said.

"He can come get you if an alarm goes off," Ironhide argued. "We're done having this discussion."

He walked off, leaving Ratchet gasping for words. He'd regained his composure by the time Ironhide returned a few minutes later, followed by Red Alert and Kup.

"Red's agreed to take over for a few hours," Ironhide said. "Kup's going to stay with him."

"Not like I have a lot of choice in the matter," Red Alert muttered.

"Stow it," Ironhide said. "You're not carrying, and you haven't been on your feet all day. You hid in your quarters while we mounted a rescue mission to the Nemesis. It's about time you started pulling your weight."

Red Alert glared, but he took Ratchet's place.

"I'll call you if anything changes," he said.

Kup clapped him on the shoulder, taking a seat beside Hot Rod's berth, watching Ratchet and Ironhide go. Ironhide had a point, and he didn't need to be so blunt about it, but Ratchet's concern about Red was more than valid, also. The span it took for the mech's body to heal was nothing compared to the time it took to put his mind back together. Ratchet had a hand in the entire process, so he knew. But there was one thing everyone tended to overlook—Red Alert wasn't fragile. He wouldn't break. He'd been broken, but he was still alive, a true survivor. Like Hot Rod, if the aft-head would stop throwing himself into the line of fire.

He was going to have a nice, long talk with the lad about his rash behavior when he woke up. Two trips back from the Nemesis in a short span of time, and he'd returned injured and unconscious after both, with wounds personally inflicted by Megatron. He owed the slagger for that, but it'd take a bigger, stronger, younger mech than he to finish that job. Or just a lucky one. The Decepticon scum had so much to answer for, and the most recent additions to the list weren't even the worst, although trying to turn Optimus to their cause was high up on Kup's list. Trying to kill a mech and the sparkling he carried and what he'd done to Hot Rod. . .Breakdown was stable even though he was in stasis lock. His sparkling was holding her own, and Ratchet had put Hot Rod back together. Again.


	30. Chapter 30

Exigence

Chapter 30

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Kup dozed, feet up on a console while Red Alert kept his optics on two banks of monitors. He concentrated more on the sparkling's vitals, but he shot to his feet when the other set of monitors started alarming. Of course, Hot Rod would wake up and start tearing at everything.

"Breakdown. . .is he all right?" the young mech managed as Red Alert got a firm grip on him, trying to lay him back down on his berth.

"He's in the CR chamber, and the sparkling is all right, too," Red Alert said, nodding over at Knock Out and the incubation pod. "She's small, but she's stable."

"What're you doing?" Hot Rod asked. "Where's Ratchet?"

"I was conscripted by Ironhide into watching monitors. Kup's been here all night with me in case I have an episode. Ratchet thinks the sight of your injuries will cause me to glitch."

"He's a glitch," Hot Rod said.

"That glitch saved your life," Kup said, joining the conversation.

"How's Spring?"

"Out cold the last time I checked," Kup said. "Optimus is with him and Bluestreak."

"That's good," Hot Rod said.

"Lad, get some rest," Kup said, squeezing the younger mech's shoulder.

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Optimus Prime sat keeping an optic on Hot Rod, and a finally recharging Knock Out. Wheeljack was monitoring the tiny femme, and Optimus was straining to hear the conversation going on between Ratchet and Red Alert, but the medic dragged Red Alert further away from the med bay.

Ratchet shot the nosy Autobot leader a glare, then started back up on Red Alert.

"Ironhide's right about one thing—you're a medic, and we can use you as such," Ratchet said.

"But. .. I can't," Red Alert said.

"Give me one good reason why not," Ratchet said.

Silence.

"See? You can't come up with one," Ratchet said. "I'm not expecting you to work on your own. We're going to ease you into it, if it's all right. You can still work with Kup on security. I'm not going to take you away from that, but we do need another actual medic."

"But what about First Aid?"

"We have no idea how long it's going to take for the Xantium to arrive," Ratchet said.

"Knock Out?"

"He's going to be training right alongside you," Ratchet said. "He can make repairs, but he lacks formal training."

Red Alert sat down, cycling air, venting it in a sigh. "There's no getting out of this, is there?"

Ratchet sat down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders. "Red, this is for your own good," he said. "We need you. You've come such a long way, and this is just one more step. You're off the hook for now. Go bother Bluestreak. You two need to spend some time together."

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Optimus settled back down watching Hot Rod, considering the unconscious mech, and the conversation they'd had that night on the mesa. Was it unfair to them both to consider initiating a relationship when his memory wasn't intact? What if he never remembered? What if he did? All good questions, but life was too short to not take a chance on their feelings, feelings he knew Hot Rod did have, and which he reciprocated. Then there was the matter of Blurr, something he would have to discuss with Hot Rod when he was up and around. If there was something between them, he'd back off. He knew they were close, but not if they were actually involved, or had been.

Personal matters aside, there were bigger problems at hand. Like Megatron, and what he'd done to Breakdown and Hot Rod, and the near-termination of Breakout, Breakdown and Knock Out's sparkling. Knock Out wouldn't leave the med bay, and Ratchet kept reassuring the former Decepticon his mate would recover, but it would take time. Knock Out had even allowed Optimus to briefly hold the tiny femme, who barely took up little space in both of his hands. Holding a new life, even one so small and fragile, gave him hope. As Orion, he'd never had the opportunity to be around many sparklings, let alone hold one. And he couldn't remember if, as Optimus, he'd ever been around any.

Optimus knew now what he had to do. He'd had his doubts before, but now, he had the conviction necessary to finish Megatron, even at the cost of his own life. Would he put Hot Rod through that potential loss? Another consideration to take in hand. He vented air, stretching. For now, he would content himself with keeping watch over Knock Out, the sparkling and Hot Rod.


	31. Chapter 31

Exigence

Chapter 31

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Ratchet wasn't surprised when he saw the scene he was witnessing in his med bay. Optimus was gone, replaced by Red Alert. Knock Out didn't look up when he heard the medic and Ironhide.

"Red, go get some rest," Ratchet said.

Red Alert shot up from his seat, vacating his post quickly. Ironhide raised a brow ridge at his mate, who was assessing the monitors attached to Breakout and Hot Rod. Nothing amiss, and the two were improving. But Hot Rod had company. Springer was curled around his twin, both in recharge. Bluestreak was sitting on Ratchet's stool, leaning against a console, head pillowed on his arms, also in recharge.

"Should we wake them?" Ironhide asked.

"No. Leave them be," Ratchet said.

"Is it me, or has carrying made you mellow?" Ironhide said.

"I'll show you 'mellow,'" Ratchet said.

"Threat or promise?" Ironhide said.

"Both," Ratchet said, glaring back.

Ironhide grinned at the medic. There was an upside to Ratchet's mood lately. At the top of Ironhide's list was the medic had an almost insatiable interface drive since becoming sparked. Ratchet, over the past two weeks, had been ambushing him whenever he could, dragging him off for an interface or three. Daily. The medic's temper wasn't as short, but Ironhide wondered how much that had to do with his condition versus present circumstances on base. Conscripting Red Alert as a medic was a stroke of genius, and Ironhide was glad Ratchet had agreed and managed to use a mixture of praise and intimidation to convince Red he would do well as a medic.

Ratchet turned away from the bank of monitors. "C'mon. Let's go back to our quarters," he said.

"Don't you need to stay?" Ironhide asked.

"I'm hoping Bluestreak or Springer has the sense to comm me if an alarm goes off," Ratchet said.

"They're not stupid," Ironhide said, surprised when Ratchet grabbed him by the arm, pulling him away from the med bay. "It's good to see you're putting your trust in others. Ratch, it's about time you realized you can depend on others. It's all right to let go once in a while."

"I hope you're right," Ratchet said.

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Red Alert half-listened to his baby brother, senses attenuated to the surrounding environment, ready for a Decepticon incursion or otherwise. He was supposed to be relaxing with Bluestreak after Ratchet threw the talkative mech and Springer out of the med bay earlier that morning. Now they were up on the mesa, with Bluestreak telling him a story about the night they'd all gone racing. Then his space was being invaded as Blue threw his arms around him.

"I'm so proud of you," he said. "I'm glad you're helping Ratchet. Primus knows he needs a break."

Springer smiled, and Red glared back, but managed to give Springer a small smile back.

"I accept the fact my brother cares for you, and you're committed to one another," Red Alert said. "You have my blessing."

Blue hugged his brother again, tighter.

"It's not me you have to worry about," Red Alert said.

"Don't remind me," Springer muttered.

"Prowlie needs to loosen up," Bluestreak said.

"Being cooped up in a tin can for vorns with Ultra Magnus will do that to a mech," Springer said.

"Springer, don't start," Red Alert said.

"How are you and Prowl twins? I mean, glitches aside, you're not that bad. . ." Springer said.

"Prowl's always been the serious one," Bluestreak said. "Smokey's the oldest but. . ."

"Prowl feels responsible for all of us," Red Alert said.

"It's called overstepping his bounds and interfering," Springer said. "He's second in command to the Prime, head of tactical for the Autobot forces, bonded to the third in command and specops commander, and he doesn't have enough to keep him busy?"

"He's not so bad once you get to know him," Blue said.

"Prowl can be an overbearing stick-up-his-aft glitch, but he's one of the must trustworthy, honorable mechs you'll ever meet," Red Alert said.

Springer shot Blue a look, surprised to hear such a thing coming from Prowl's twin.

"I know that," Springer said. "I have yet to experience it, considering I've been on his bad side since we met."

"That's not entirely true," Red Alert said. "Once he figured out you and Hot Rod weren't feeding intelligence to the Decepticons, his opinion changed, but he still considers you and your twin considerable disciplinary problems."

"Enough about Prowl," Bluestreak said. "Can't we just enjoy an afternoon together?"

Springer stole a kiss from Blue and Red Alert only shook his head in amusement. Rodi was getting better, the base was still standing and maybe things with Prowl wouldn't be too bad.


	32. Chapter 32

Exigence

Chapter 32

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod was out of the med bay after six days of boredom. Breakout wasn't ready to leave the med bay yet and Breakdown was still in the CR chamber. Because of Breakout's presence, Knock Out was spending all his time with her, and Ratchet was using it as a chance to gauge the extent of the former Decepticon's medical skills. Red Alert had to sit in on class time, and Hot Rod was waiting for the mech to glitch. Maybe he wouldn't, but spending day in, day out with a Decepticon had to be grating on Red's nerves.

Ironhide kept an optic on the little group, stepping in when Ratchet lost his temper. The medic complained about being coddled and smothered, but Ironhide ignored it. Hot Rod knew Ratchet had a lot on his mind. They all did, wondering if and when Optimus would get his memories back, when the other Autobots would arrive, and when Megatron would strike, and where.

Issues aside, Hot Rod was grateful Ratchet cleared him for duty without any restrictions. Patrol was a welcome relief. Monitor duty was even looking good before Ratchet let him go, anything to get him out of the medic's domain. Not that he minded Knock Out or the sparkling. Knock Out even let him hold Breakout a couple of times, under the watchful eyes of himself and Ratchet. The medic was doing everything he could to keep Knock Out from worrying about Breakdown. The big mech was getting better, and would probably be out of the CR chamber in less than two weeks. Ratchet was even starting to talk about when Breakout would leave the med bay, and Hot Rod was grateful for some good news for a change.

He was also glad his patrol shift was over and the base was gearing up for what Miko called a "sleepover." The kids were staying on base overnight (given it was a Friday, it was a regular occurrence), but Miko said there were special events planned for most of the night. Hot Rod knew part of it would involve Kup's stories because the old mech had come to him earlier in the week asking his opinion on some of his tales. Hot Rod was looking forward to it, and so were Bluestreak and Blurr. Springer said he was tired of the stories, but Hot Rod knew Kup had something special planned. Not even they had heard all of Kup's stories.

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Kup half-listened to the younglings' banter. The children could and did keep up with their Autobot counterparts. Well, maybe not with Blurr, but he slowed down to accommodate them. He'd already told a couple of his stories, one he'd told countless times to Springer and Hot Rod, and the other, well, it was the tale of how he first became acquainted with the twins he considered his own. Younglings, compared to his own age. And the humans in their midst, younger even still.

Miko, Raff and Jack were listening rapt, to his stories, and even Knock Out moved a little closer to listen, Breakout cradled in his arms. Optimus was in the back, leaning against the wall. Springer sat between Bluestreak and Hot Rod. The others were all loosely ringed around him. Kup smiled. The Prime all the way down to the newest Cybertronian in their midst were going to hear one of his stories, one he didn't often tell. Humbling? Yes. Alpha Trion was the last of the Thirteen, keeper of the Covenant of Primus, head archivist of Iacon, the capital city of the Autobots, but he once said he lacked the ability to keep an audience as captivated as Kup did with nothing more than one of his stories. Such a simple thing—weaving a tale, but Kup knew it meant more than that. It tied them all together in a way nothing else could. The stories he told, some of it was just tales from his own experiences. Other times, it was history, history he'd lived, or stories passed to him by Alpha Trion. However, at the moment, the story of the Sparkeater from his time on the Invictus during the Second Quintesson War seemed to have the kids on edge. Miko was hugging one of Bulkhead's fingers.

Using his holo-emitters to show them an image of the creature, Kup grinned at the various reactions from his audience—Bulkhead's girlish scream among the best. Then he was done, and Ratchet was suddenly in front of him, scolding Miko who was being vocal about her plans.

"I don't want the three of you digging around in the unused parts of the base looking for anything," Ratchet warned. "It's not called a "sleepover" for nothing."

"I can sleep tomorrow," Miko muttered.

"Yeah, when it's light out and you're safe from the sparkeater," Raf quipped, earning himself a hit to the head with Miko's pillow.

"If you three move from this spot for anything other than a bathroom break or to get more food and drink, I'll hunt you down," Ratchet said. "And I will not be happy."

"Fine," Miko said. "We can explore tomorrow. When it's light. Scary movies. Now."

Ratchet frowned, saying something unintelligible to the children in Cybertronian, making his way back to Ironhide, tucking himself in against the bigger mech's side. That made Kup's grin even wider, happy Ratchet was willing to be openly affectionate toward Ironhide in public. But he raised an optic as he watched Optimus and Hot Rod leave together.

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The mesa was always a good place to go to be alone. Hot Rod wanted a few moments to himself. He'd spent so much time inside lately, and surrounded by others he desired some silence. He'd never truly be alone, considering his bond with Springer, but some time alone with his own thoughts, away from others, would be a welcome distraction. But he wasn't going to get it, because another distraction made his presence known. Optimus Prime's energy field brushed up against his own, and Hot Rod concentrated on keeping his field calm, fighting the spike of desire he felt as the Prime wrapped his arms around him from behind.

"Don't," Hot Rod said, pulling away from the bigger mech, turning around to face him.

"Why?"

"We can't," Hot Rod said. "It's not fair to either of us. . ."

"You're still concerned about the fact I don't have my memories? I could never forget you," Optimus said.

"You can't remember who you are," Hot Rod said. "I'd say that's an impediment to a lasting relationship."

"Then help me," Optimus said.

Helm to helm, Hot Rod sighed as the arms of his Prime surrounded him agian. He surrendered to the touch, for a moment. "We should get back inside," he said, stepping away.

"We could talk for a while," Optimus said.

"I'd like that," Hot Rod said. No pressure or expectations. He could live with that.


	33. Chapter 33

Exigence

Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Comfortable berth, blessed darkness and a big, warm frame pressed up against him, and Hot Rod was content. Recharging in a berth that wasn't in medical or pieced together from salvage was a nice change.

"Good morning," Optimus Prime said, breaking the silence, his azure optics blazing in the dark, staring down at Hot Rod.

"Not quite time to get up," the smaller mech quipped.

"No, but neither of us should be awake, either," Optimus said. "I'll try to rest if you do."

Offlinging his optics, Hot Rod settled back into Optimus' embrace. He was safe, and Optimus wasn't going anywhere.

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Springer and Hot Rod were taking a break from their patrol. Springer was silent, contemplating his twin, and the conversation he'd had with Kup earlier that day. His mentor told him about seeing Hot Rod leave with Optimus during the party, and Springer hadn't seen him again until he'd shown up for his patrol. There was also a short discussion about how Hot Rod's interest in Optimus Prime seemed more than friendly. Springer knew Kup wasn't out of his mind, and while the ancient mech was content to let matters run their course, the triple changer wasn't so patient.

"So," Springer said.

"Yeah?" Hot Rod answered.

"You and Optimus," Springer said.

"I recharged in his quarters. That's all," Hot Rod said. "You'd know if anything did happen."

"Kup gave me the impression it was more than that," Springer said. "He saw you two leave together."

"Last night? Nothing happened last night," Hot Rod snapped.

"I'd know," Springer said. "You know that, and that's not what I meant. Kup thinks there's something between you and Optimus."

"Maybe," Hot Rod said.

"What about Blurr?" Springer asked.

"Just friends," Hot Rod said.

"I thought it was more complicated than that," Springer said.

"It's not," Hot Rod retorted.

"Whatever," Springer said. "Blurr came with us because you talked him into it. I thought you two might've had something."

"Velocitron's time was running out, and he didn't want to stick around for the big finish," Hot Rod said.

"Blurr was famous there," Springer said. "He had groupies. The mech could have any femme or mech he wanted, and you two latched on to each other so hard he left the planet with us. Explain that."

Hot Rod frowned at his brother, biting back a retort. Springer was waiting for an answer, optic ridge raised in question.

"Blurr's my friend," he said, settling on that answer, which was the best, safest choice. Hot Rod was not going to have this discussion with Springer again. They didn't talk about their feelings. It wasn't an issue before because of their bond, but since the beginning of Springer's relationship with Bluestreak, his twin was more open about his feelings, and talking about them. A positive development, Hot Rod mused, but Springer's timing was terrible.

"He's my friend, too," Springer shot back. "And if he's so important to you, why don't you act like it?"

"Fine. I'll try and spend more time with him," Hot Rod said.

"Rodi, at least you stand a chance with Blurr," Springer said. "Do you really think Prime will give you time of day if he gets his memories back?"

"Stuff it, Spring," Hot Rod said, standing, and transforming, taking off down the road.

Springer cursed, taking off after his twin.

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Hot Rod skipped the rest of his patrol, choosing instead to get as far away from his brother and the base as fast as he could. He kept the bond with Springer closed and ignored the incessant comms. He needed to be alone for a while. He never truly was, but after his talk with Springer earlier that day, he craved a little distance from his twin.

And he knew he'd be in trouble when he returned to base. Hot Rod didn't care at the moment, contemplating Springer's words. Maybe he was right, and he didn't stand a chance in the Pit with their Prime. Springer, in his own way, was trying to keep him from getting hurt. Hot Rod knew that, but still, the sting of his twin's words wasn't something he could just ignore. He couldn't let himself fall, not when there was so much riding on the situation, and Optimus. He wouldn't put himself through that. And he wasn't worthy. Optimus was the Prime. Could the Primes even have a relationship? He'd have to ask Kup. Not that it mattered. Not anymore.


	34. Chapter 34

Exigence

Chapter 34

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Hot Rod transformed as he rolled into ops. He wasn't alone. Not surprising, nor were the reactions. Ratchet glared, nodding at Kup, expecting him to take care of the problem. Hot Rod rolled his optics at the medic, and Kup grabbed the young mech by his spoiler, yanking him along with him. Struggling in vain at first, Hot Rod stopped, letting Kup drag him into the bowels of the base, letting him go when they were far from prying optics and audios.

"Why didn't anyone come after me?" Hot Rod asked.

"Figured you needed a little time apart," Kup said. "What's got you so wound up?"

"Nothing," Hot Rod said.

"Liar," Kup retorted.

"Really, it's nothing," Hot Rod said.

"Must be something if Springer came back in a black mood, Ratchet is in a snit because Ironhide is angry you two didn't finish your patrol," Kup said. "I can understand slacking off a little, coming back early together, but it must be something if you and Springer aren't talking."

"We are talking," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe that's the problem," Kup quipped. "What were you two discussing?"

"Springer is butting in where he shouldn't," Hot Rod said.

"Your genius tactical decisions or something else, like your private life?" Kup asked. I've noticed you're spending a decent amount of time with Optimus."

"That's the problem," Hot Rod said.

"Why?"

"Because he's Prime, and, and his memories. . .He won't remember, and that's not fair," Hot Rod said. "And he doesn't remember. Can a Prime even have a relationship?"

"It's a deterrent, but not forbidden," Kup said.

"What if he gets his memories back, and he forgets?"

"What if he remembers?" Kup said. "Are you just gonna wait?"

"I don't have a lot of choice, do I?" Hot Rod said.

"There's always a choice, lad," Kup answered. "And there's something else to consider. What about Blurr?"

"I don't know," Hot Rod said. "I care about Blurr, I really do, but. . ."

"But what?" Kup said.

"I can't have both," Hot Rod said.

"Ever heard of a trine, youngling?" Kup said.

"You're crazy," Hot Rod said.

"Stranger things have happened," Kup said. "What happens, happens. Sometimes, despite the choices you make, all you can do is hold on for the ride."

"Something you learned from experience?" Hot Rod said.

"How else would anyone learn?" Kup said. "Feel better now?"

"A little. Thanks," Hot Rod said.

"You're welcome. Ratchet'll probably have something to say when we get back, but let him have it, and go on about your business," Kup said. "Carrying hasn't improved his personality."

"Can you imagine what it's going to be like with a little baby Ratchet running around?"

"It's half Ironhide," Kup said. "Don't forget that."

"Ultra Magnus is going to love that," Hot Rod said.

"What about Prowl?" Kup said. "He'll glitch."

"When doesn't he?" Hot Rod said. "Hopefully he won't glitch when he learns Knock Out and Breakdown are here, and about their sparkling."

"I doubt he will," Kup said. "Considering the circumstances. C'mon. We should head back. Don't want to begrudge Hatchet his lecture, do we?"

88888


	35. Chapter 35

Exigence  
Chapter 35   
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

 

Ratchet made busy work for himself taking inventory in the med bay while waiting for Kup to drag Hot Rod back. He wanted a few words with the young Autobot. Really Ironhide’s job at the moment, but Ratchet felt he needed to intervene. The medic had calmed down a bit. Maybe an actual confrontation wasn’t the best action to take. A calm discussion about responsibilities would suffice. 

Ratchet perked up when he received a comm from Kup, asking for a bridge. Seconds later, he appeared, dragging Hot Rod along, giving the younger mech a gentle shove toward the medic. 

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Kup said, eying the medic. 

Ratchet rolled his optics. “I won’t hurt him. This is not a matter that warrants physical harm, is it?”

Kup frowned, turning his attention to his charge. 

“Lad, just talk things through,” he said. “Ratch can be a good listener. Sometimes.”

“What a lovely compliment,” Ratchet muttered, a wrench appearing in his hand from his subspace pocket. “Get lost so I can talk to the sparkling.”

He set the wrench down as Kup disappeared around the corner, heading for the living quarters. 

“What happened this time?” Ratchet asked. 

“A difference of opinion between Springer and I,” Hot Rod said. 

“About?”

“Nothing,” Hot Rod replied. 

“Optimus?”

“I said it was nothing,” Hot Rod said. 

“Optimus isn’t nothing,” Ratchet said. “He seems to enjoy your company in more than a friendly manner. You know how complicated that makes things, don’t you?” 

“I’m well aware,” Hot Rod said. 

“What did Kup have to say?”

Hot Rod shrugged. 

“I thought you and Blurr were close,” Ratchet said. 

“We are,” Hot Rod said. 

“It’s a simple solution then, really,” Ratchet said. “If you care for them both, do something about it. If not, make your decision and move on.”

Hot Rod gaped at the medic, who smacked him in the back of the head. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this—just don’t let it get in the way of your duties,” Ratchet said. 

“I’ll try,” Hot Rod said. 

An honest answer, and Ratchet let it go. 

88888

Springer continued working on the report Hot Rod was supposed to write. He didn’t look up as Bluestreak sat down beside him, snaking an arm around his shoulders. They were in the hub, and Springer didn’t need to know where Blue’s gaze was locked--watching Ratchet and Knock Out with Breakout. 

“Want one?” Bluestreak asked.

“A sparkling?”

“Yeah,” Blue said. 

“Someday,” Springer said.

“She’s cute,” Blue said. 

“And fussy and noisy,” Springer added. 

“She’s fussy because she came a month early,” Blue said. 

“For that, I hope I’m there when Knock Out and Breakdown catch up with Megatron,” Springer said. “I think that would solve a lot of problems.”

They were all protective toward the tiny little femme, and Megatron deserved a special place of his own in the darkest, deepest depths of the Pit for what he’d done to Breakdown. Carrier and sparkling were doing better, and Knock Out wouldn’t leave either. Springer couldn’t blame him, nearly losing them both. And then there was Ratchet, who was suddenly Knock Out’s new best friend. Maybe it was a medic thing, or the fact Ratchet was carrying, but the two had bonded over the harrowing experience they’d recently endured. 

“I wonder what Ratchet’s sparkling will be like?” Bluestreak said. 

“A loud, demanding little fragger,” Springer said. 

“You don’t like sparklings?” Bluestreak asked, arms now crossed. 

“I never said I didn’t,” Springer said. “How can I like something I’ve never been around before?”

“Sparklings are cute,” Bluestreak repeated. 

“That’s the only one you’ve seen,” Springer said, nodding toward the other mechs and sparkling. “And cute doesn’t make up for all the hard work a kid makes.”

“It would be different if it were ours,” Bluestreak said. 

Springer set down his data pad. “Blue, you’re not starting this again, are you?”

“What’s to start? We’re together. We’re going to bond, eventually, and why not try for a sparkling?” Bluestreak said. “Doesn’t mean we’ll succeed.”

Blue did have a point. They could always practice. Didn’t mean they had to spark merge or anything. “Fine.”

Springer found himself knocked off the bench and onto the floor, Bluestreak’s weight pinning him down. 

“Really?” Bluestreak said. 

“Yup,” Springer managed, noticing Ratchet and Knock Out glaring their way. 

Then he was yanked to his feet, data pad shoved into his hands as Bluestreak dragged him toward their quarters. 

Hours later, Springer stared down at Bluestreak, who was deep in recharge. He couldn’t refuse the other mech anything. He was the only bot in the universe, besides Hot Rod and maybe Kup, that Springer would do anything for. There would be hell to pay if they succeeded, and he knew damn sure Bluestreak wasn’t going to be satisfied with one try. Hell, he was afraid. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, except maybe to Rodi, but they were treading on dangerous ground. 

What would Prowl do to them when he finally arrived?


End file.
